Time's Lessons Learned
by StarbearerTM
Summary: Mt/Gh. Not for Gohan/Videl fans. What if Future Trunks returned and became a teacher at Orange Star High as well as decided to stay? How would Gohan react? Shonen-ai
1. After Cell's Time

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #01**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This work of fan fiction means no harm to the anime or manga. I get no money for writing this. My thanks to Lord Truhan for help with the ideas in this fan fiction. This idea is based on the doujinshi Our Time written by Dragon Sisters: Manya and Minea, which I didn't write or draw. I'm borrowing the ideas for this fan fiction and I'm attempting to fill in the missing pieces that happen before, during and after it. _

**A/n:** My thanks to Lord Truhan for help with the ideas in this fan fiction.

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_**Chapter 1 After Cell's Time**_

It was hard transitioning from late teen hood to life as an adult, often leaving him with one foot on the threshold while the other seemed frozen stuck inside a comfortable doorway. All markers of comfort had long ago faded, forcing Gohan to form new attachments as replacements for his father's absence. While the void left by Goku's choice to remain dead never filled, there were other things that allowed him to seal that emptiness off behind a wall and try not to notice it was there. On the other hand, that was his hope.

In the diversion of supporting others, he found relief from missing his father so deeply. Still questions filled his head, such as why would his father not realize that the risk of danger was far less than the risk of danger through emotional abandonment. A mother needed him greatly as a source of emotional support, and he sensed in time, someone else as well. He had been too distracted before to realize the other life ki burning brightly, yet he knew it from having sensed the same phenomenon in Bulma years ago; it was from the formation of a new child in his mother's womb.

New life brought new hope. He wondered if this was how Future Trunks must have felt when arriving in a world hardly recognizable from his own. Part of him also wondered if he would see his fellow warrior again. Emotionally shoved on a father who had been long absent only to have that tentative new bond ripped asunder kept him sleepless in his solitary room upstairs. Fortunately, his grandfather the Ox king was on hand to help with stemming the tide of his mother's emotional downs. Coupled with her increasing pregnancy and her funk induced by perceived rejection from Goku she spent few days out of bed.

Though his books sat neatly stacked on his desk, he found himself only turning to them occasionally now. Far more important were the gentle coaxing of his mother from her emotional stupor through making chamomile tea and fixing breakfast. Now the roles of caretaker switched, evident from him bringing meals for Chichi in bed while the Ox King settled the bills and affairs of the house. Even the women from the village came to help, including Lime's family, bringing casserole dishes for the young window.

Occasional days of brightness pierced through the gloom of the dull ache when Gohan was not busy studying or helping out with the care of his mother and home. On such days, his grandfather the Ox King would take him fishing to remind Gohan that he was indeed still a youth in need of recreation. HIs life could not be one of sole responsibility, even though he seemed more than happy to sacrifice his own hobbies for the sake of pitching in.

"You need to remember to give yourself some time, Gohan," Ox King told him as they sat by the shore with their fishing poles dangling in the lake. The sense of comfortable familiarity misted Gohan's eyes with tears, and eased the ache a bit more. While he concealed the void behind a growing wall of plaster, it still needed more time to solidify.

Even so, the feel of the warm sun burning down on his pale skin filled Gohan with a sense of hope. Textbooks often mentioned how sunlight influenced mood. Just knowing he made the weather possible by defeating cell gave him some measure of peace. Now he could lean back and peer into that blue void crisscrossed by occasional clouds and the diamond glistens of sunrays spilling down. In addition, know that it was because of sacrifice. Yet as he frowned, he could not help but wonder why others did not realize they needed to put their own feelings aside as he had done.

_How can helping others be selfish? How could wrapping your separation in a noble and ill-conceived excuse make it right to abandon your wife and child?_ Gohan felt like loathing his father sometimes, and yet he was disturbed more that it seemed justifiable.

Other times Piccolo was a listening ear. Just talking to Dende in some visits he saw Piccolo meditating at Kami's Lookout. Hovering in midair with his cape hanging down and fluttering in the thin air Piccolo spoke very little but listened volumes.

Years slowly formed out of the endless days. Slow changes were the norm, marked by the progress of Chichi from whole days spent in bed to only partial. In six months, she was often doing a larger share of housework, insisting Gohan resume his studies. There was not as much time for the books to gather dust anymore. So plunging into his studies, he found solace from the aching holes.

Finally, when his younger brother was born, another looked to him for guidance. After shepherding his mother through her dark time, he found it a huge relief to act silly and care for a younger soul. Yet he felt adulthood foisted upon him and barely realized that he had a right to protest it. Guilt was a huge motivator, making Gohan shove aside any desire for his own needs in favor of pitching in and pulling his weight.

Right now, a crib sat in Chichi's bedroom, so she would not have to keep the baby in the bed. Ox King insisted. Much of the time, his grandfather spent the night in a new wing that he had built onto the small house for the new library of books that Gohan would need for his continued study.

Throughout it all, Gohan's thoughts wandered to the welfare of his fellow Z warriors. Especially the fate of Future Trunks. Sometimes lying on his bed at night, he thought back to the other times when they had shared sleeping space through their adventures. One particular night crossed his mind more and more often as the days went by and he sat contemplating his calculus:

_Future Trunks thrashed back and forth on his borrowed bed at Capsule Corp. Down the hall, Gohan's enhanced half Saiyan hearing could not mistake the noise of the low moaning, amidst the rustle of cloth. It soared loudly above the domestic din of Capsule's humming energy conduits supplying power to each of the many rooms. Such a steady hum existed on a much smaller scale at his home at Mt. Paozu. Just why he rested here other then home was just pragmatism, for who wanted to fly four hours home when they could simple spend the night here? _

_Vegeta had taken quite a beating from the androids then, and Trunks and Gohan were working on individual techniques in one of the other training facilities Bulma had constructed. She had busied herself with discovering how to rig a remote control detonator that could disable one of the androids. So far, Krillin had not been brave enough to use it._

_Gohan automatically leapt out of bed, hurling his sheets aside. Only halfway down the hall did he realize what he was doing. It seemed born out of instinct. An inborn silent voice urged him to the side of the other half Saiyan. His impulse to knock on the door was overridden hearing the escalation of the moans into near cries of help, and screams. Rather than risk scaring Trunks even more badly by shouting, Gohan simply opened the door and rushed inside. It took a second to register just what he saw amidst the pile of rumpled sheets half dangling off the side of the bed ,but Gohan knew from the thrashing of his arms and legs that Trunks was still sound asleep and fighting some unknown terror._

"_Trunks wake up!" Gohan automatically snapped, stepping over a pile of clothes and pillows thrown off the bed. "It's Gohan…"_

"_No… No!" Trunks howled. His foot shot out, and then Gohan heard a loud thump accompanied by the crack of plaster on the wall shattering. Gohan drew in his breath sharply, leaping onto the corner of the bed before reaching out to grab Trunks wrists. Already one of his hands was glowing ever more steadily with blue ki, and it would not do to have him hurt himself and anyone else with whatever tormented him. _

"_Trunks wake up!" Gohan repeated, kneeling right next to Trunks hip. Forcing his face within inches of the other half Saiyan, he saw the sheen of sweat glistening there. While he was worried he could not help but notice that the other was bare chested, judging by the sheets tossed partway aside. Judging by the resistance of Trunks to Gohan's grasp, he knew it that was quite possibly a reenactment of one of the many battles of futility. _

"_Gohan, no… You can't be dead!" Trunks howled. Mention of his name made Gohan's heart stop dead. The way in which he screamed with such desperation wrenched uncertain emotions to the surface._

_Sudden images flickered at random, causing Gohan to blink. So strong was the wave of pain that shot through him that he felt himself shortly stunned. His numb brain seized up, and then Trunks twisted his wrists. The next second Gohan found himself flying across the room, before feeling his shoulder and hip slam against the carpeted floor. A rapid burst of balled up emotions tangled with unfamiliar memories scrambling inside Gohan's consciousness. He could see the shape of a red and blue gi clad figure standing across a distance from him, his hair burnished gold. Although its back faced Gohan, he noted the sigil spelled out his own name, though the style was the Turtle Hermit school uniform. _

"_Take me with you Gohan, please… I can help you fight; I won't get in the way this time!" a younger version of Trunks voice echoed. From the solid muffled quality, Gohan realized he was seeing memories through Trunks eyes._

_Gohan questioned just how such a connection could be forged, then remembered how his father Goku could read minds with a touch of a hand to a forehead. Back on Namek, he had asked to read Krillin's mind in such a manner. Inadvertently Trunks had transmitted these images to Gohan through the contact of skin on skin. Strange other emotions tingled inside Gohan, and he felt mixed with fear something else that caused him to blush._

"_All right," said the tall figure, his gold hair spiky with the power of a Super Saiyan. Gohan shivered through the recollections realizing it was he or an older version. Teal eyes stared down with a silent sadness that felt painfully familiar. In addition, the nasty scar crossing his face told the silent story, not to mention the left sleeve of the weighted top that dangled without an arm. _

"_Kami," Gohan breathed, pushing himself to sit up. "That's me… in Trunks world. But I look so… so different…"_

_The thrashing had abated by now, and Gohan tensed to hear the change in Trunks breathing. Rasping breaths and a pounding heart echoed, but Gohan realized that his own heart was pounding equally unrestrained trying to process the alien memories. Tendrils of his hair hung down, and he felt the weight of his own lengthening hair halfway down his back. He heard Trunks breathing slowly, and the creak of bedsprings heralding someone swinging around their weight to sit up._

"_Gohan…" whispered Trunks, voice thick with emotion._

"_You… you're awake… thank Kami," Gohan responded, his own voice cracking slightly. _

"_Wait a minute… what… what are you doing here?" Trunks asked. Gohan managed to scoot over, pulling himself on his hands and knees to where Trunks sat on the corner of his bed._

"_That must have been one nasty nightmare. I heard you from down the hall," Gohan confessed._

"_Gohan, what is it? Was I that loud? Sorry to make you worry. I'm fine," Trunks said, scooting to the edge of the bed. He was worried why Gohan was still sitting on the floor, looking badly shaken. Trunks extended a hand to him, and motioned for Gohan to take it. HE easily tugged his friend up towards the bed. _

"_Come on, sit down. Since we both woke up, it doesn't look like we'll get back to sleep any time soon. Are you sure, you're all right? You look like you've seen a ghost…"_

"_I should ask you, Trunks. You sounded like someone was murdering… sounded like someone killed your… best friend," Gohan tentatively observed. He sat down next to Trunks on the edge of the bed, looking only sideways at the older half Saiyan instead. When Trunks gasped, Gohan knew he was treading on dangerous territory. Should he continue to press Trunks to talk, or not?_

_Seeing how Gohan's shoulders were slumped over, Trunks too felt the tension in the room rise to a palpable level. His gut told him that somehow Gohan had figured out just what he had been dreaming about, and he cursed the fact the younger version of his mentor was so smart. _

"_Are you okay? Holy shit did I do that," Trunks commented, staring at the hole in the wall. He felt anger surge through him at his lack of self-control. His every motive was to spare Gohan the truth of what became of his counterpart. Better, the youth still cling to some notion of childhood before the storm increased, rather than have angst foisted upon him so young. He was on the threshold of teenager hood, and only a few years separated them both. Ironic._

"_I saw, Trunks," Gohan coughed._

"_What are you talking about?"Future Trunks lamely tried to protest. A hand rested on his arm, squeezing tightly._

"_I saw myself. You somehow… put memories into my mind. I didn't realize till I saw them," Gohan began. The older demi inhaled sharply, his muscles twitching under Gohan's grasp. _

_Future Trunks words came out stilted and tinged with trepidation, "What DID you see, Gohan?"_

"_What must have been me? You were asking me… er him… to not leave you behind," Gohan answered, his young voice trying to relate something to the owner of the memories. It seemed pointless, but Future Trunks had a right to know what was going on. Although the younger demi could be angry at the memories forced into his brain, it was his fault for bursting into the room without knocking._

"_I see," Future Trunks nodded, swallowing hard. He removed his arm from Gohan's grasp. The dim glow of whatever ambient light from the windows shimmered on his lavender hair, painting it hues of silver. One foot still hung down while his arms wrapped around the other knee hugged to his chest._

"_I'm sorry if I saw something I shouldn't have Trunks," Gohan apologized. He too drew up his knees and hugged them both, rocking back and forth slightly on his side of the bed. _

"_What's done is done, Gohan. You only saw yourself as an adult," his future friend began. Yet he stopped his explanation as the description of memories rang clear in his mind._

"_Oh," Gohan acknowledged. He could tell in the change of tone in Future Trunks voice and the hesitation that he had ventured into forbidden territory. Already he had crossed a line that he felt he should not have. Now he knew something far more intimate then the lavender haired demi had ever meant anyone to discover. How could he admit to trunks he knew the feelings held secretly for so long for his other self?_

_He only wished he could love someone that much when he was older._


	2. Flashback to HTC training

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #02**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This work of fan fiction means no harm to the anime or manga. I get no money for writing this. My thanks to Lord Truhan for help with the ideas in this fan fiction. This idea is based on the doujinshi Our Time written by Dragon Sisters: Manya and Minea, which wasn't written or drawn by me. I'm borrowing the ideas for this fan fiction and I'm attempting to fill in the missing pieces that happen before, during and after it._

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Memories of other more painful times after that were common for Gohan, in the years to come. He would often remember that year of training in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber during the week Cell was giving them to 'rest'.

Broken, blossoming with new bruises, Gohan turned over in the small bed once more. Distantly the sounds of Goku's ki explosions explained the flickering blue lights shining through the window. In the twilight of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, it was hard to differentiate night from day except for the huge clocks and trickling hourglasses. The novelty of the pocket world quickly faded through endless days of kicks, punches, and ki blasts singing his already aching body. Never since Namek or those first days training hat it hurt him this badly.

On top of all the fresh crop of bruises and sore aching muscles, he felt sick. Unable to train he had taken to bed, only to wake in a half torpor hearing his father continuing in his absence. At times like this when his muscles screamed Gohan wondered if it was worth anything. All that seemed to transpire day in and out were new ways for his father to use him as a punching bag.

"Is that all I am to him? Some means to an end," Gohan found himself wondering. He tried to push away the though, feeling guilt bubbling up. Yet as his head pounded continually along with the explosions of his father's training, he felt left out. In between times of his father leaning over and forcing hot broth down his throat with steamed rice, the heat burned him at the same time icicles pricked every square inch of his skin. Just behind his temples, a battle raged in volcanic heat, contrasting the freezing shiver of his toes and fingers buried under the blanket.

He curled up on himself, struggling to block out battle cries. Of what good was he to anyone except as a training partner? Just why he should bother trying to achieve SSJ when he could barely withstand the daily pummeling was beyond him. He had often dreamed of what it would be like training with his father, only to learn in three years the reality. Often times he would be in the middle of a two-way punching fest between Goku and Piccolo, only to feel like a tagalong. How many nights of ping ponging between his father and Piccolo for some scraps of knowledge that led him nowhere?

Pressing his hands to his head he would cry, "Masenkoo HA!" to block his father's beam. He remembered the gleam of pride in Piccolo's eyes those few times, shoving against the Kamehameha wave. Moreover, his father's laugher echoed as he was kicked backwards.

How hard was it to learn a Kamehameha wave, Gohan wondered? It seemed so simple and yet in all those three years Goku never instructed him once in his signature technique. Now he had earned the privilege, so called, to train one on one with his father and it was the pits. In comparison, the year under Piccolo seemed a fond memory. Yes, Piccolo had been hard and cold, but in that time, they had forged an unbreakable bond.

All he wanted to do was to shut out the thunder rolling distant, and the voices whispering failure in his ears. Squeezing his eyes so tightly shut he saw orange in the blackness, much like the orange of his father's gi. On the green fields of Namek, there had been bright red blood that contrasted just as glaringly. At that time, his father seemed an angel sent to rescue them all. All they had to do was hold out until his daddy came. Then it would all be okay.

However, it was not to be. Even with Goku's strength, everything went horribly wrong. Krillin exploded before their eyes, Dende slaughtered. Even Vegeta, who was an enemy turned tentative ally, had been pierced through the heart by Freeza's death beam. Vegeta, who had saved him from Freeza's blows repeatedly. After all those months on Namek, the Prince, Krillin, and Gohan had grudging respect for each other out of necessity to survive. Then Goku came and took charge, and things blurred into a far greater struggle.

_He had to be strong_, Goku whispered. Even now, he heard the footsteps and saw the shape of his father blocking the light.

"Dad," Gohan muttered, weakly lifting his hand up. Goku gently pulled the covers up to his chin, a bowl of that purple hued rice he would come to hate. He had liked purple beans and rice, but day in and day out it was becoming a loathed staple.

"C'mon it will help you feel better," Goku urged. Gohan felt him tug his head forward with an arm slipped behind his neck, nearly yanking his head from his spine. Something cold and curved was shoved below his lip and liquid tipped past making him cough.

"You have to be strong Gohan. Any day now, you will be a Super Saiyan. You just need to push harder," Goku whispered. He could not see his father's face, backlit by that eerie twilight. Only the shadow falling across his bed as he coughed down the meal Goku force-fed him.

Goku could feel the resistance of his son to the treatment. Gohan glanced feverishly up into his father's dark eyes, seeing a glimmer of sadness. Sighing, he withdrew, still carrying the half-emptied bowl. Gohan turned over in bed, his back facing his father. The message was entirely all too clear then. Distant footsteps receded, telling the half Saiyan his father was exiting the HTC pavilion. After a wait of ten minutes, he heard the resumption of loud shouts accompanied by ki blasts.

Though he could sense the pain in his father's gaze, Gohan couldn't help but delight in it. Although he wanted to scold himself for such perverse pleasure, he felt in a way that his father deserved it for not pushing him harder or sharing such secrets sooner. Anger and resentment bubbled up as hot as the fever pounding his pulse in his forehead, contributing to a slow simmer that spread all over his body. More tightly, he curled up on himself beneath the blankets, burrowing into their protection to achieve that inside the womb sensation he found comforting.

Unable to turn anywhere immediately for comfort, Gohan retreated inside himself. Even his mother seemed a poor substitute because of her constant disapproval of his abilities locked inside. While a good part of him wanted to be a good son and study as his mother desired, he wondered where his hopes and hers ended. Turning over memories in his mind, he soon realized that he had no aspirations of his own, only settled for those goals others had pointed out for him. Always his mother provided any bars he had to leap over and hoops to jump through, and such standards were never clearly reinforced by his father. While other children in literature had very clear father figures that would put their foot down, he wondered why his own father was so quick to acquiesce to his mother's will. From all his studies, he learned the basics of psychology, and his analytical brain tried to square his parent's interaction with what was normal.

"What is normal," Gohan asked himself. "My father was gone for a year or two, dead for a year before that… and my mom's had to do much on her own. Plus who do I know around here who is?"

What came to mind were the village children? Chichi had limited interaction with them, choosing to cloister Gohan away to put his studies before all else. The only people he could play with were Dende and Icarus. He recalled however volunteering to watch Baby Trunks for Bulma from time to time while she perfected the remote control. At times, she even found him assisting her.

Gohan's love of electronics stemmed from the time he accompanied her and Krillin on their voyage to Namek. Filling the endless days with study only went so far, so he often helped Bulma tune up things in voyage. Through those interactions, she taught him the basics of electronics to keep his mind and hers occupied. In some ways, he felt like Bulma understood him better then Chichi did. At least she wasn't uptight about letting him do certain things that Chichi would have a stroke if she ever found out.

Then his thoughts meandered through the blue of Bulma's eyes to recollect another pair of eyes that were identical in shade. Future Trunks. Thoughts of him filled Gohan with a sense of relief. All his interactions with the teenager seemed filled with hope. Just sparring with him gave Gohan a sense of relief that he never felt with anyone save Piccolo. Oddly enough, Trunks treated him like an equal, not a pupil, or a child to be reprimanded. In the dark haired demi's eyes, Trunks seemed to worship him. Yet was it because he reminded the lavender haired youth of his own Future Gohan, or was it for his own sake?

"Does he like me," Gohan suddenly wondered. "For who I am, or just because I remind him of his Gohan?"

His Gohan. Future Gohan. Very different and yet very much the same. Separated by as many years as he was to Future Trunks. Ironic and yet poetic simultaneously. Since the revealing of that package of strong feelings, Gohan sought to navigate the significance and meaning of them. He didn't want to misinterpret the strange glances and sad looks that Future Trunks cast his way during their workouts or sparring times.

"I don't want to be a substitute for him, yet if he does like me," Gohan trailed off. Yet the attention and the purity of desire to spend time with him superseded any doubts at this time.

Summoning to his mind those images derived from Trunks he formed the clearest image he possibly could. In slowest detail, he paused each instant like a slideshow in his mind until he reached the sight of his future alternate self. Close-cropped hair except for a few spiky tendrils off the forehead comprised a far different hairstyle to what he wore now. The gi seemed a size or two large, considering the blue weighted undershirt, sleeves nearly touched the middle of his arms. Quite a contrast from how his father wore the shirt, its short sleeves reaching barely past his shoulders. Almost as if Future Gohan strove to grow into the gi that still seemed several sizes too big, yet fit in its own style. For him it was just right, just distinctive enough to differentiate him from Son Goku. The patch bearing the "Han" sign written in bold black script confirmed his individuality.

Jet-black hair flooded through with golden light, resulting from the flames of Super Saiyan energy licking over Future Gohan's figure. Teal eyes devoid of pupils gleamed at him through the memories as experienced from Future Trunks perspective, yet now deposited safely in Gohan's mind. He studied the diagonal scar crossing over his doppelganger's adult face, realizing it resembled Yamcha's, and only added to the rugged handsomeness Future Trunks perceived in his recollections.

"He was a super Saiyan. That means I must have it within me," Gohan reasoned. In the fever pitch of his sickness his mind still flickered efficiently, preoccupied with the revelation. It seemed as if the golden glow from his future self had transferred into his heart. As it grew brighter, it radiated soothing warmth capable of banishing the dim doubts his father and others had previously deposited.

Coupled with the new levity of spirit was Future Trunks pride. A smiling face peeked behind that fringe of purple hair at him many a day. The graceful slant of his angular eyes contributed to the perfection of his expression. In them, he didn't see the resemblance to Vegeta, only the uniqueness that was Future Trunks. He delighted in those smiles the young half Saiyan gave him whenever Gohan arrived at Capsule, or in any other place. No matter what Gohan did, he sensed that Future Trunks would still accept him faults and all.

"I don't need to prove myself to him, because he's just glad to see me. Not only that… but he's actually happy when we're together in any way?" Gohan realized. As this thought crossed his mind, the warmth spread and modulated his body temperatures within a more normal limit. Now instead of shivering with twitching muscles wrapped in on himself Gohan could relax and lie still. Filling his head with the smile of Future Trunks and glimpses of a possible future, he managed to sleep.


	3. Future Trunks returns

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #03**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This work of fan fiction means no harm to the anime or manga. I get no money for writing this. My thanks to Lord Truhan for help with the ideas in this fan fiction. This idea is based on the doujinshi Our Time written by Dragon Sisters: Manya and Minea, which I didn't write or draw. I'm borrowing the ideas for this fan fiction and I'm attempting to fill in the missing pieces that happen before, during and after it._

* * *

It was great to have doting grandparents willing to babysit the future president of Capsule at the drop of a hat, Bulma Briefs realized. All the years she spent puttering in the lab when she wasn't undertaking child care were frequently breaks from her role as a mother. Added to that was her duties as capsule corps president. While she could hire nannies the best that money could buy, she opted instead to bring her son with her to the office where she could keep an eye on him. Alternatively, she simply allowed her mother to play granny daycare, knowing that her son was receiving the best of care.

For months after Cell's demise, her husband had either disappeared into the wilderness to train or mourn in the Saiyan fashion. It had taken a few weeks of his sitting on the edge of a cliff looking out at the sunsets before she realized she needed to intervene. Fortunately, Future Trunks returned and spent much time with his father, inventing a new goal for Vegeta to accede to. Within an hour of his first visit back, Vegeta and he blasted off to the wilderness and didn't return for an entire week. During that time, she examined the time machine, concerned with the readings on its energy demands. With each trip, the machine required more time to replenish its energy. Bulma's calculations showed disturbing implications, because each time Trunks navigated the temporal stream, he encountered more branch points replete with temporal eddies. Fortunately, between her and her father Dr. Briefs, they programmed an algorithm to help him compensate in the temporal coordinates. One of these times, she feared he wouldn't be able to return to his own time.

Despite the risk of that first visit back, it was more than worth it for it seemed to rejuvenate Vegeta. After Future Trunks visit, gradually the Saiyan Prince spent more time watching her with the baby, and then actually entering the room while she did things as mundane as nursing or changing diapers. Gradually he even would have the child near him as he watched television, or lost himself in what he'd think was some mundane earth activity. Once Baby Trunks reached age two, things changed.

At first Vegeta spent time simply modulating his energy and showing the child how to control ki. Trunks was fascinated at the glowing aura extending from his father's fingers, and would watch it with a serious face and a wave of his own chubby hand. Or else he would sit up, and toddle over to where Vegeta stood or sat generating the ki ball. Progressively the rapport between father and son unfolded so that Vegeta spent more time pursuing more earthly activities. Trips with Bulma to the shopping mall or to the amusement parks were not uncommon in the next seven years. As Trunks grew older, Vegeta's vow of never fighting again seemed invalid. Bulma allowed him to train Trunks, knowing it was the best outlet for his knowledge and healing of his broken spirit. He needed a purpose other than outpacing Son Goku, and investing that energy in Trunks was the best remedy.

With each passing year, Trunks grew into a mischievous and intelligent little boy. Even though he was spoiled in some ways, in others Bulma was glad most of it was due to the Saiyan's Prince's continued involvement in their son's life. Unfortunately, one side effect of his renewed interest in training the boy was rekindling his own interest in training himself. He spent longer periods in the gravity chamber, isolating himself only to spend what amounts of time he dared with his son or Bulma. Life became more compartmentalized where if he was not training trunks Vegeta was pushing himself to surpass the limits he'd reached during the Cell Games.

After seven years, Vegeta and she had finally achieved a good balance looking after the boy. Spoiled with attention in her mind was far better than being deprived of it. Trunks had plenty. Late nights in her laboratory were Bulma's escape from reality in to her own little world. Keeping up with an energetic seven year old was almost a full time job. Still her mind wandered to the occasional visits by their older son from an alternate timeline. Once a year he would stop by to check up on them, only to leave after his time machine was charged for another trip. During the next seven years, the trips grew less frequent until they abated altogether. During most of those rare visits, Future Trunks spent most of his time with Vegeta sparring in the gravity chamber or in space testing the new Capsule crafts. In orbit they could train to their heart's content without endangering anyone on Chikyuu.

Now on one such late night, she focused on her latest project; reorganizing her computer invention database. Vast blocks of memory were occupied with the calculations and programs used to run Capsule's inventions. She had one separate locked secure database just for her own proprietary inventions. As she swirled her coffee in its blue thermal Capsule mug she ran the mouse over an entry she had overlooked for quite a while

Her eyes blearily read the text. "Temporal algorithm beta three."

"I'd almost forgotten about this. The latest modification in case he visits," Bulma wondered, sipping her coffee. How long had it been between visits this time? At least four years, she realized, checking the entry notes. Her fingers flew gracefully over the keys, allowing her to scroll down the pages of equations and recheck the figures. When realizing the energy demands her eyes widened in near horror. Would it take the output of a nuclear plant to charge a machine this time if he happened to return? According to the time span, such recharging would require almost two months, if not three to completely restock the temporal power core.

"It increases geometrically each time," Bulma sighed, setting down her cup with a clink. "Sooner or later, the power core won't be able to hold the necessary energy."

To her, the barrier to overcome time travel was like pushing a rock up a hill. For each trip, the slope became steeper, requiring more to push it up. Yet the return trip from the past was not as taxing. Power requirements increased proportional to the number of trips he'd taken. She would download the log from his time machine each time he arrived, and store it in the corner of the lab so it could recharge without anyone jeopardizing it.

Tiny ripples radiated outward from the center of her coffee mug. She heard a faint clinking, realizing the cup was rattling on the surface of the desk. Minute vibrations seemed to creep through the floor, and even in the air itself. Then she heard the whoosh of what sounded like rocket engines outside the complex, and felt the ground lurch like an earthquake.

"Speak of the devil," she gasped, leaping out of her chair. The hallway to her private lab was long, but she crossed it in just a matter of seconds to enter the main living quarters. Her mother and father were sitting near the television where Trunks sat hunched over a video game console.

Dr. Briefs was pacing back and forth, his ear glued to the phone. Spotting Bulma he shouted, "I'm getting too old for this! You tell that husband of yours he'd better stop scaring the local people of West City by breaking the sound barrier! I could hear the windows rattling over the Video game!"

"Daddy I'm sorry. I'm going to see who it is. Tell the security guards that I'm handling it!" Bulma said.

"Oh my," Mrs. Briefs commented, standing up rather calmly. "Do we have visitors? They should be landing at the company airport…"

The phone at Bulma's waist rang, and she grabbed it. Her father glared at her as he returned to speaking to whoever it was on the phone. "I'll take care of it! There's no need to worry!" she told her security chief.

"Mom, what's that?" Kid Trunks asked, tossing his game down. "I feel someone's ki… it must be papa, back from his training in the desert!"

"Now Trunks don't get so excited! Let Mommy see who it is before you go rushing off!" Bulma cautioned, catching the back of her son's shirt seconds as he whizzed past her.

However, the forward motion pulled her along and Trunks grabbed her hand. "Mom, its Papa! It has to be!"

"He only just taught you to sense ki, you can't be sure," Bulma protested weakly. She struggled to keep up with his stride, and then realized her mother and father were huffing behind them.

"Is it that nice young man from the future? I'd better put on another pot of tea!" Mrs. Briefs panted.

"Honestly dear, you KNOW it's that son in law of ours making a ruckus! You'd better go prepare a nice big meal for him instead," Dr. Briefs gasped as he stopped and leaned against the wall panting.

Outside on Capsule's front lawn, the security guards had already assembled. At sign of Bulma, they were withdrawing, though keeping a watchful eye on the sky above. Trunks glanced up, feeling his mother's hand squeezing his. "Stop right there young man! I told you not to run off!"

"That's not Papa's ki!" Trunks complained, his brow wrinkling in frustration. "But it's not Gohan or Goten's ki either! Who the heck is it?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out, Trunks. Now stay put!" Bulma said firmly but kindly. Sulking, Trunks folded his arms much like his father, and turned his head to the side.

"Up there, Ms. Briefs," pointed the security chief, holding his binoculars. "IT looks like a capsule craft… and it's hovering…"

"There's no need to worry," Bulma said quietly, shading her eyes with her hand. She glanced down at her son blinking up at the gleaming shimmer in the sky.

"Mom, he's pretty powerful. Almost as much as Papa is! Who is it and why are you going all weird on me? Is it some lame adult thing I have to be old enough to understand? I'm not a little kid you know!" Trunks reminded her.

"Do you remember when you were younger," Bulma turned to him, realizing it was futile to try to send him back into the house. He was seven, and it was impossible to quell the curiosity of the boy.

"Yeah, so what?"

"I'm getting to it. Do you remember someone else, with hair the same color as yours who would play with you when you were young?" asked Bulma, watching the gleaming shape of the spiderlike time machine descend. Trunks tensed, his eyes narrowing as the craft fired retrorockets and descended to a graceful landing only fifty yards away. Like a ripple in a pool, the guards backed away and waited for their President to indicate what their next action was.

"Wait a minute, do you mean the guy who had the same name as me?" Trunks asked quietly. "Hold on… that's nuts…"

"Welcome to the insanity," Bulma sighed, watching the gleaming dome slowly swing open, to reveal the jacketed figure sitting in the circular console. He leapt over the side, long hair swirling around his shoulders. She moved over to him, temporarily blocking her son's view of the stranger though he darted around her legs to protect is mother from what seemed a potential threat.

"Whoa, who are you?" Trunks demanded, his blue eyes widening in shock as he raised one hand glowing with blue ki.

Equally, blue eyes gleamed from behind pieces of lavender hair. A strong hand swept them behind his ear as he strode forwards into the light. The white upon black of the Capsule corps logo decorated the shoulder of a dark blue jacket, worn over a black muscle shirt tucked into a pair of baggy pants with multiple pockets.

Two pairs of blue eyes widened. "Mom," Trunks whispered, his arm thrown back. "Who are you?"

Over one shoulder Trunks could see the hilt of an old-fashioned sword, strapped to the traveler's back with a belt slung diagonally across his shirt. What floored Trunks most was the appearance of the stranger's face standing out handsomely from the long hair gathered at the nape of his neck in a ponytail. He felt as if he were looking into a funhouse mirror seeing a huge tall reflection of him in weird clothes. Even the sneakers were futuristic and strange.

"Trust me kid," answered the stranger, glancing down with a smile on his face, looking at his younger counterpart. "It'd freak you out. Let's just say you were about three the last time I saw you, and I can't blame you if you don't remember…"

"Trunks, you remember Trunks don't you?" Bulma couldn't' resist giggling. "You know, from the future?"

"No way… wait… you're him," Trunks trailed off. "It's like having a brother!"

"You could say that," Future Trunks grinned, dropping down on one knee to look his younger doppelganger in the eye. Still a bit surprised the younger Trunks blinked up at him and almost flinched when Future Trunks reached out a hand and ruffled the lavender hair, cut short and styled identically to Bulma's.

"It's been ages!" Bulma exclaimed, rushing over and leaning down to hug him. Still unsure, Trunks watched his mother and the older Trunks embrace, huddled over as they were.

"I thought you were Papa," Trunks mumbled.

"Don't blame you for doubting, you're only protecting your mom, just like I would," Future Trunks smiled fondly at his younger self. "You've really grown big in the last four years!"

"Dad's been training me to fight. You're powerful. I bet I could kick your butt," Trunks bragged.

"That I'd like to see. Where's your Dad?" Trunks asked.

"He's on a training trip," Trunks rolled his eyes slightly. "He said I was too young to come."

"Why don't we all go inside and talk about this over some hot chocolate," Bulma suggested, laying her hands on the shoulders of either son. "Trunks is pretty tired after his long trip. I'll have the security men take the time machine into the lab to recharge."

"So what's this about being some bizarre-type double of me with my name, huh? Mom, is this me or something, or are you someone else that looks like me or who's all older?" Trunks asked Future Trunks.

"Let's go in and I'll try to explain, or your mom will," Future Trunks chuckled, straightening up. Arm around his shoulder, and holding the hand of her young son, she led them both inside.


	4. Breakfast with the Briefs

**Time's Lessons Learned Chapter #04**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, Akira Toriyama does. This fan fiction means no harm to the anime or manga. I get no money from writing this._

* * *

Waking up in a bedroom with familiar surroundings seemed routine enough, but Future Trunks still felt a bit out of place. His sword leaned against the wall of the guestroom he occupied, next to a chair where his clothes were neatly folded. A duffel bag with other personal items sat next to that, opposite the double bed he occupied.

Something else became apparent though as Trunks opened his eyes. Something tenting the blankets up a bit as a great deal of his blood flowed south erecting it. Thoughts of Gohan still swarmed in his brain, and Trunks slid his hand under the sheets to quickly take care of business. He hesitated though, realizing the shower would be a much nicer place, and easier to keep clean to 'take care of business'.

A few minutes later he watched the results of his ardor spin down the drain with soapsuds. While it was nice to prime himself for what was hopefully to become reality from his dreams, he needed to think of other matters. Namely, what sort of a life he would make for himself in this time.

With a towel hitched around his waist, Future Trunks almost bumped into the doorway rubbing his head dry with another flipped over his face. He stopped in front of the mirror, and then dropped the wet towel into the nearby clothes chute. Although he could rely on the bots, something about personal responsibility overruled convenience. Amidst the clothes, he rifled through his hand brushed past soft silk. Trunks reached in and lifted out the carefully preserved keepsake. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled the essence of Gohan himself. Only a few more days, Trunks told himself, and they'd be reunited.

He dragged the comb through wet strands of lavender hair. Carefully he used the tip of the comb's handle to draw a part down the middle, and combed each slick half to either side. A strategically wrapped highbred later and he was ready to trot downstairs. Exiting the room, he easily made his way through the corridors to the first landing, remembering each step. Even though it had been years since he was last living at Capsule.

Much had changed, while much remained the same. Rounding the stairs on the way down, he glanced up at the newly installed crystal chandeliers in the great staircase. Across it on the far wall, he saw what appeared to be new paintings, done by some modern artist. Other touches such as the sitting room furnishings were updated, while the sounds coming from the kitchen were quite familiar. He could hear his Grandmother singing along to the radio, joined by the sounds of laughter and two other people asking for their various orders.

Striding into the kitchen, he saw his mother with her back facing him, tossing fruit into what looked like a blender. Before the stove, Mrs. Briefs flipped pancakes into an old-fashioned skillet, before tipping them out onto the ever-increasing stacks to her left on the counter. Already seated in the breakfast nook, Dr. Briefs rustled his paper. To his immediate left Kid Trunks reached across to grab the box of sugar-laden cereal stacked near the all bran and frosted wheat twigs. Future Trunks strode in, wondering if he should pitch in and help.

"Good morning Trunks! You're just in time for coffee. I'm starting another pot," Bulma greeted him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and left him dumbfounded to see his mother wearing an apron with hair styled in an identical manner as his younger self.

From the table Kid Trunks rushed, reaching up to grab his sleeve. Tugging on it he said, "Nii-san! You'd better hurry up before we eat it all. You can sit next to me!"

"Thanks, Chibi," Future Trunks chuckled, letting himself be dragged to the table by the enthusiastic seven-year-old. Soon he sat down next to the excited half Saiyan, and reached for his napkin. It was nicely rolled around the silverware, requiring him to undo it before putting it on his lap.

"Would you like banana or blueberry pancakes, boys?" Bulma asked.

"Um… yes Mama," Future Trunks said. "Blueberry?"

"Banana, Momma!" Kid Trunks raised his hand. He then grabbed the cereal box and dumped a heap into a large bowl in the plate before him.

"Coffee dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked, fluttering about the table like a hummingbird at a feeder. Expertly she tipped the coffeepot at such an angle that she managed to pour into each cup without spilling a drop. Odd, thought Trunks, how she never seemed to get older. Perhaps the miracles of modern plastic surgery, or something else he'd rather not worry too much about.

Kid Trunks plunked a half-empty box before him. "There, Nii-san I left you some if you want the rest… Mom's always telling me not to hog it…"

"You could have offered it to him before, sweetie," Bulma mildly scolded him. She pulled out her own chair and settled down in her place opposite her son.

Another chair sat empty, without a place setting before it, indicating where Vegeta would normally be. Mrs. Briefs didn't sit down in the chair at the foot of the table until she had piled heaping stacks of pancakes before both half Saiyans. Future Trunks navigated through the maze of bottles to grab the syrup and douse his half-eaten stack along with the butter sliding down it. He took small bites strategically cut with the silverware and just enjoyed the din of conversation going on around him.

"Do you see Gohan at all, Chibi?" Future Trunks happened to ask.

"Used to a lot more. But he's so busy studying nowadays that I mainly hang with Goten," Kid Trunk said through a mouthful of butter and syrup.

"The young man's so busy at high school he doesn't even date, poor thing," Mrs. Briefs commented. Suddenly Future Trunks wheezed and coughed on his own mouthful until Kid Trunks slammed him in the back to dislodge it.

"You okay?" asked Bulma concerned, leaning across the table.

"I'm f… fine," Future Trunks got out, his face beet red. He glanced gratefully at his younger self who was shaking his head incredulously.

"If that wasn't so scary I'd say it was cool how red your face looked there," Kid Trunks said. "But you'd better slow down or Mommy will be wearing it!"

"Young Gohan-san has quite an aptitude for Science. Always has," Dr. Briefs commented from behind his paper. The cat sitting on his shoulder yawned and stretched. Reaching down it dipped its paw daintily in the nearby glass of milk and licked it clean.

"Nose in the books huh? Has he been like that after I left last time?" Future Trunks asked. He swallowed a mouthful of bitter coffee, sweetened with half-and-half to wash down the mouthful that nearly choked him.

"That was a million years ago, are you kidding," Kid Trunks mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"I forgot anything about us adults makes us ancient," Bulma chuckled, smiling knowingly at Future Trunks. He hid his own smile behind his cup and then lowered it. Immediately Mrs. Briefs reached over to top it off from the nearby glass carafe.

"Well Gohan's been going to Orange Star High for the last few years now. He's a senior," Bulma announced.

"Yeah, busy hanging out with the other big kids instead of Goten and me. But he does sometimes come over to play video games. I still have to beat him in Vampire Hunter D part 3," Kid Trunks added. "He's asking to get his butt kicked."

"Are you kidding, Chibi? I used to play that game, but it was version 2," said Future Trunks with an amused smile.

"No way, you play video games, Nii-san? But Mom said your world was all busted up," Kid Trunks began.

"Well they've rebuilt it since then, kiddo," Bulma glared at her younger son. "I mean that's what you've told me, right Trunks?"

"This is going to take some getting used to!" Mrs. Briefs glanced back and forth in confusion. "Two handsome young men by the same name… we're going to have to chase the girls off with a stick!"

"Girls, give me a break," Kid Trunks made a face.

"Remember all seven year olds think girls have cooties," Bulma leaned over and whispered to her mother.

"Ohh my that's true," whispered Mrs. Briefs back.

"Well, what do you do with Gohan? I mean when you hang out, Chibi?" Future Trunks asked his younger self.

"He sometimes takes me and Goten to the amusement park. Dad's sometimes too busy to do that. Unless he's using it to bribe me to get in a good punch," Kid Trunks explained. "Gohan took Goten and me to the Satan City carnival a few months back and we all got to ride on the Gravinator. Never mind that it only goes to ten times and my dad's GR goes to a thousand."

"Gravinator?" Future Trunks hiked a brow. "The one that has the floor that drops out and it spins around and presses you to the walls?"

"That's it," Kid Trunks nodded. "All the other weaklings couldn't even stand up, but I did, and Goten did and Gohan nearly had a stroke. You should have seen his face! Hey, that reminds me Papa was going to take me to see a movie this week, but you think Gohan could since Papa's not back from training yet?"

"I could take you, kiddo," Bulma said.

"Grandfather and I would be happy too…" started Mrs. Briefs.

"We would? But dear, you and I have that board of director's meeting!" Dr. Briefs reminded her.

"I could call Gohan's mother and ask. But I think he's starting the new semester a week from now. And if I know Chichi she's probably having him get in some last minute cramming before the semester break is over," Bulma tapped her chin.

"Oh man, Gohan-san does nothing but study. Man what a square," Kid Trunks grumbled.

"Maybe you could take him?" Bulma leaned over and looked at Future Trunks.

"Sure, why not," Future Trunks smiled. "I'd hate to have you miss Shark King in the Fourth Dimension."

"You will Nii-san, really? Awesome! But maybe Goten-kun is going to want to come too…"

"I think just the two of you would be a nice change of pace. Remember that Goten was visiting his grandpa Gyu Mao for a week," Bulma pointed out.

"Man I forgot. Jeez," mumbled Trunks. He brightened up though as Future Trunks nudged him.

"Maybe after that we can spar like you suggested. I remember you claiming you could 'kick my butt'. You should show me the moves your Papa taught you," Future Trunks laughed.

"And some more of my own," Kid Trunks laughed enthusiastically.

"Oh boy, here we go," Dr. Briefs murmured, reaching for his coffee. "Just when you thought it was safe to retire…"

"Darling isn't this sweet?" Mrs. Briefs cooed. "Just like real brothers!"

"Not to change the subject, but I was wondering what your plans were for the moment Trunks?" asked Bulma. Now Future Trunks felt her expectant eyes resting on him, and he felt temporarily unable to answer. How could he admit in front of everyone else the true reason for his quest here? A reason that had burned brightly in his heart and soul like a beacon through the lonely yet productive years of reconstruction? Especially in front of his younger self who might get his heart broken from a possible attraction to the object of Future Trunk's affections? If some constants held true, Kid Trunks could give him some serious competition for Gohan's interest when he grew to be a teenager. Fortunately, his younger self gave him a welcomed breathing space that next moment.

"What kind of a question is that, Mom?" Kid Trunks asked, rolling his eyes. "Of course he's staying with us, right?"

"At least for a while, till I get settled in," Future Trunks reassured him. "And decide where I'm going to get a job."

"You're always welcome to join Capsule, young man," Dr. Briefs lowered his paper and smiled fondly at his elder grandson. "Bulma will need a new President one of these days when she takes my place as CEO of the corporation."

"Well I don't know about that," Future Trunks blushed mildly, glancing around the table as all eyes fell on him. "I was thinking of working my way up from the bottom. I don't really want any special treatment right off the bat…"

"I understand," Bulma said. "Well you can always get a job in R and D, or in the business department. I could speak to the manager…"

"Mamma, why does he have to worry?" Kid Trunks pulled a face at her. "We're so rich he doesn't need to work…"

"I'd much rather have a job though, Chibi. There's nothing as satisfying… almost nothing as satisfying as a good hard day's work followed by a good hard session of fun," Future Trunks reached over and ruffled Kid Trunks hair.

"Says you. You're sounding like just another grown up," the younger demi winced.

"Maybe so, but I need something to keep me busy since we can't fight all the time," said Future Trunks. "But I would really prefer working outside Capsule, just to see what things are like on my own. I've spent all my life under the dome; I don't think it would hurt to see what this world's like…"

"Don't tell me you're going away just when you've got here, oh my!" Mrs. Briefs lamented. She grasped her napkin and began to dab at her mascara that started to run in black trails at the corners of her eyes.

"No, that's not what he means, Mother," Bulma patted her mother's hand as the blonde-haired woman fanned herself and tears leaked down her cheeks. "He needs a bit of a break and I think I might have a possible idea… of why."

"Actually, you said Gohan was studying a lot, didn't you, Chibi?" asked Trunks.

"That's right Nii-san. Maybe you could drag him out and get him to play with us again?" Kid Trunks nudged his arm.

"Um well, actually I had always wondered what it was like to teach school. You mentioning studying gave me an idea. But the only problem is where," Future Trunks tapped his lip.

Bulma's own mind began to spin with the possibilities. Indeed her own crystal blue eyes twinkled as brightly as her older future son's did. "Wait a minute; I might know some people who could get you a job teaching. The only problem is it will take some time to find a placement, and there's always making up background documents…"

"That's right. I only have a Capsule Corps ID card from last time. I don't exactly exist here… on paper," Future Trunks mumbled from behind his coffee mug. After he set it down, Kid Trunks picked up the cup and took a sip. He promptly pulled a face and spat the beverage into his napkin.

"Ugh, how can you grownups DRINK this stuff? It's gross, Nii-san," he complained.

"It's coffee. Another crazy thing grownups like. I only drink it to put them off guard," Future Trunks whispered at his younger self.

"Oh yeah…" he whispered back, seeing the playful gleam in the older demi's eyes. It never hurt to play the game of young boys, helping feed the conspiracy theory that adults were crazy and kids were really the only ones who made sense. At least until Kid Trunks grew old enough to no longer care about clinging to his childhood in fear of growing up and 'selling out'.

"That's child's play," Bulma snapped her fingers.

"What, who?" Future Trunks and Kid Trunks asked together, their young and old voices blending into an odd harmony. Both aware of the synchronization they blinked at one another and started to chuckle.

"Isn't that too cute," Mrs. Briefs whispered to her daughter.

Bulma ignored her and continued, "I'll get some of my people onto it. You'll probably want to get a driver's license once we get some papers drawn up… so you're officially in the company database… and nobody will ask any silly questions."

"I'll handle that, Princess," Dr. Briefs volunteered. "You research a job for the young man. Not to worry, sonny, you'll fit right in. But I do wish you'd reconsider working for the family business?"

"You want to teach? Are you nuts, Nii-san?" Kid Trunks blinked at him, horrified. "Why?"

"Not to worry, Chibi. I'm not going over to the side of the enemy. Just an experiment I've wanted to try," said Future Trunks, his eyes taking on a mysterious gleam. "And it might just work to getting Gohan out of those books…"

"Oh yeah, a secret plan huh?" Kid trunks whispered excitedly. "Count me in."

"Now don't get any silly ideas, kiddo. He's just trying to make a life for himself. It doesn't' mean he's going to ditch us," Bulma cautioned her younger son.

"You're no fun, Mamma," Kid Trunks glared at her sulkily. Again Future Trunks remembered how annoying adults could be, and felt jealous for how fortunate his younger self was. Kid Trunks would never be deprived of the magical journey from childhood to teen hood, free of the constant horror of androids and death lurking around the corner. Already it was apparent that he was a far different Trunks because of his surroundings. It reminded Future Trunks that Gohan was indeed a different creation, forged from the new changes in the current timeline. He had to be careful not to have any unrealistic expectations for a relationship with his long desired.

Yet could a version of him spoiled by attention and having all he could ever want be any sort of a warrior. Yes, Kid Trunks had many things he didn't, but he didn't have a mentor like Future Gohan. Nevertheless he had a relationship with his father from birth that Trunks himself never possessed. He couldn't afford to be jealous of the younger demi's life circumstances. They were both separate individuals, the products of their own times with different destinies. Unfortunately or fortunately so were both versions of Gohan. His Gohan had died a hero, in a tragic death, something that this Trunks would never have. That alone quelled any future notions of envy in Future Trunks heart.


	5. Future Trunks and Kid Trunks

**Time's Lessons Learned Chapter #05**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This fan fiction means no harm to the anime or manga. The idea for this fan fiction was borrowed from Our Time, a doujinshi by Manya and Minea, the Dragon Sisters. Thanks to Lord Truhan for help developing the ideas for the story!_

* * *

Fists flashed one against the other. Although his opponent was barely half his height, the lad compensated by his stance. Feet firmly planted and back arched, Kid Trunks fixed sapphire eyes on his longhaired opponent, and raised his hands. Standing with a minimal amount of target presented he twisted so his side faced Future Trunks, while his chest faced sidelong. Almost in the fashion of a fencer mingled with other techniques, Future Trunks nodded.

It mimicked Father's fighting stance. Wearing dark blue gi belted with a sash, his demi doppelganger then launched himself; forwards at the same time Future Trunks pressed his back leg down and lunged. Fists collided with sparks flying, and blue ki fields buzzing like bug zappers. As their auras brushed, Future Trunks felt the resistance of almost identical frequency ki blocking his own. Defiantly, Kid Trunks dropped, and then swept his leg out to kick his opponent's baggy pant sheathed leg out. However, Future Trunks easily landed on his opposite leg to block the kick aimed at his midriff. Fists jabbed out in rapid succession, their lavender hair flying.

"You just getting warmed up, or is this all?" Future Trunks taunted.

"I was starting to get bored," Kid Trunks laughed back, smirking devilishly. "Now, let's kick it up a notch!"

Flipping backwards, he landed, feet again spaced apart. Fists spread wide; he let out a low grunt. Hair flipped upwards, gleaming with gold energies in a mere fraction of a second. Future Trunks too mimicked the pose, and then it was the kid's turn to see the long ponytail bristle into armored spikes. For a second he flinched, realizing how disturbingly similar his doppelganger appeared to the Legendary. Lightening snaked over him, and his hair glowed pale gold.

"Super Saiyan 2, you're not holding back, are you? Well that's even better!" Kid Trunks exulted. A quick snap of power and his own form was wreathed in similar blue patterns of force. However as he again launched himself, something gleamed brightly out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he caught his reflection in the shining blade that arched towards him.

Barely did he dodge out of the way, as the sword sizzled past his head. Ducking under, Kid Trunks then leapt up as Future Trunks slashed doubled handed with the blade sheathed on his back. "So that's it huh? Watch this!" Kid Trunks taunted. He leapt up, and to Future Trunks shock landed on the flat surface of the sword, standing on it with booted feet. Flipping forward he then pushed down with one flattened palm, and kicked sharply at Trunks jaw.

"Damn," Future Trunks swore, feeling blood erupt into his mouth, as his teeth sunk into the side of his cheek. He hadn't seen that coming, but the child was good. Moreover, nasty.

"Nyah missed me slowpoke!" Kid Trunks grinned.

"Oh yeah?" Future Trunks asked. He grinned meaningfully back, and then tossed his sword up. It flipped repeatedly, and then stuck fast in a nearby tree, its pommel still vibrating with the force. Shortly Kid Trunks glanced to the side, and then leapt back in anticipation. His fists crackled at the level of his hips, gold energies charging.

"Double buster!" he shouted, directing twin beams towards Future Trunks. Arching his back and levitating, Future Trunks suddenly exploded a bubble of force from his skin that blocked the beam. Then he recovered, his arms flashing quickly back and forth before his face. Easily Kid Trunks figured he could block the ball of energy hurled at him.

"Burning attack!" Future Trunks shouted.

"As if!" Kid Trunks rolled his eyes.

However, instead of lifting his arms to block, Kid Trunks rocketed out of the way of the glowing sphere hurtling fast. It dissipated in a huge burst of ki inches from where he stood in the GR. An instant later, someone phased behind him, and he kicked sharply. Grabbing his ankle, Future Trunks barely stopped the collision, and then snapped the younger version of himself away from his body like cracking a whip. Kid Trunks shot backwards towards the far wall, only to twist in mid flight and hurl a blast forwards.

An identical ki sphere matched its intensity, creating another huge pyrotechnic show. As it cleared, both Super Saiyans panted, their hands held up and glowing with intense power. Voices blended high and low, both mouthing words that had to do with "Finish… Buster… cannon…"

The bleeping of the intercom startled their concentration. Both of them dampened their power fields, their enlarging spheres of energy flickering off into nothingness as they absorbed their energy back into themselves. Teal eyes met in silent understanding, knowing that their match would have to wait after lunch. First Kid Trunks hair flickered back to its lavender state and dropped, followed by the gold spikes of Future Trunks falling limp around his face. For a moment, they stood only ten paces separating them, strands of hair soaked purple and sticking to their cheeks and forehead.

"Not bad. Father's been teaching you well," Future Trunks gasped, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

"You're not too bad either, Nii-san," panted Kid Trunks stumbling over and reaching out for a towel stacked neatly on the floor by the door. He tossed one to the elder, who hurled a water bottle at him. They both caught their respective items and started dabbling at the sheen of sweat their battle had produced.

Neither of the pair was too surprised to see Bulma's face framed in a large screen levitating in midair. "All right boys, time to call it quits and come eat! Even young warriors need to keep their strength up!"

"Coming mom!" both of them called, then blinked at one another strangely. As Future Trunks toweled himself off his younger Self glanced at him.

"Hey, Nii-san?" he asked, seeing the youth pull on a blue jacket that he swore he'd seen before.

"Yeah, Chibi?" he answered, pressing the button to open the Gravity Room. The door hissed, depressurizing into normal Earth G, before swinging into the hall.

"That jacket. It looks familiar. I could have sworn Gohan had one exactly like it in his room," Kid Trunks noticed.

Hearing this, Future Trunks froze, and Kid Trunks was surprised to see a slight blush covering his 'brother's cheeks. "Um… really?"

"Yeah. What's up with that?" asked Kid Trunks. "You give it to him or something?"

"Actually I did. He liked it so much that I gave it to him, and Mom had another one made when I got back to the Future," Future Trunks hastily explained. Already he marched off down the hall, as if trying to walk quickly to avoid any more questions. Kid Trunks frowned, unsure of why his older brother… that's what he thought of his older self now as… was so shy?

"He's acting like Gohan does around girls. Weird," Kid Trunks shrugged. Somehow, the thought didn't seem so weird to him. As far as he knew, boys sometimes liked other boys in the same manner as some guys liked girls. It wasn't so unheard of in West City for two men to date one another. Unfortunately, in Gohan's village, such behavior was considered odd, and almost indecent.

"Whatever," Kid Trunks shrugged. Then his mind spun with a strange revelation. He trotted rapidly after his older brother to keep up with him before Future Trunks could elude his next question.

"Nii-san, hey wait up!" Kid Trunks shouted. Swiveling his head around, Future Trunks slowed his pace and waited for Kid Trunks to catch up with him.

"Yes, Chibi? Afraid I'll beat you to lunch?" he joked, all shyness now locked beneath a veil of self-assuredness.

"Yeah right. Why is it every time I talk about Gohan you get all weird on me, huh?"

Trunks froze again, cursing under his breath. He glanced down at the younger version of himself and realized how shrewd Kid Trunks was, and wondered how he could explain himself. After all, Kid Trunks was no idiot, possessing his mother's intelligence and his Father's cunning. Anyone would be blind not to notice certain cues. Just how this would change things, he struggled to answer, blue eyes widening in shock.

"Um… it's nothing. I just haven't seen him for a while, and I'm not sure what to say to him. Considering he's not even expecting to see me, that's all," Future Trunks smiled and said as brightly as he could.

"Uh huh, yeah. Whatever you say. But it sure is strange. I mean it reminds me of how Gohan gets whenever mom teases him about…"

"Aren't you a little young to be worrying about such things?" Future Trunks blinked at him.

"What things?" Kid Trunks blinked at him, playing innocent. Nevertheless, Future Trunks didn't buy it for a second.

"Watch it, your mother's… our mother's just in the next room," Future Trunks hissed, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him to the side. "Look, we'll talk about this later. I'll explain after lunch okay. But no more questions about it… you didn't see anything."

"See what? I don't' see why you're freaking out. It was only a question, sheesh. I mean what do I care if you don't know what to say to Gohan. You'd think that you guys were…" Kid Trunks almost got out, and then trailed off. A tense moment ticked by, and Future Trunks heard the pounding of his own heart, as he was almost afraid of being unmasked. Then Kid Trunks shook his head. "Nah, what am I thinking? I'm just a kid still. Why should I know what I'm talking about right?"

"Uh right," Future Trunks nodded. He then stared to where his younger self was swiveling his eyes to see Bulma and his grandmother entering the common area where all the corridors and staircases to Capsule mingled in a vast vaulted indoor courtyard.

"You two had better wash up before lunch," Bulma cautioned.

"Oh my you two look so cute in your workout clothes!" Mrs. Briefs tittered.

"Ugh, don't even start! I'm not cute, Grandma!" Kid Trunks pulled a face. She grabbed his cheek playfully, giving it a tug.

"That's my little angel! So angry and so proud just like his dreamboat of a father. You're going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies like your Nii-san here, right?" she gushed, embarrassing the poor kid by ruffling his hair and pinching his cheek even harder.

"Mom, stop torturing him, and let them go get a shower," Bulma sighed.

"I can't help myself he's just so cuuute!" Bunny continued to fuss. Finally, she released her grandson who backed away with an embarrassed and annoyed look on his face. She turned to Future Trunks who blinked incredulously with an awkward smile.

"Um, I'm all hot and sweaty, Grandma. I don't' want to ruin your new dress!" he waved his hands frantically before his face as he dashed off after his younger self. Both demis made it to the safety of the built in locker rooms before Bunny could chase after them and tease them further.

"Mom, honestly, get a grip! You know Trunks hates getting his cheek pinched! He's not a baby," Bulma glared at her mother.

"What, what did I do?" Bunny Briefs looked clueless at her daughter. Rolling her eyes, Bulma grabbed her mom's wrist and then leaned down to pick up the sweaty towels her two sons past and future had dropped.

"But they won't get this lovely fruit punch I made them!" Bunny lamented.

"Mother, make yourself useful and wash these towels, before they get any riper. I'll set the table for lunch," Bulma groaned.


	6. Seeing Gohan at a Distance

**Time's Lesson's Learned Chapter #06**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is not mine, it belongs to Akira Toriyama. The idea for the plot for this story comes from the doujinshi Our Time by Minea and Manya._

* * *

Crystal blue water lapped against sun-drenched sand. Murmuring Future Trunks turned over and could swear he was fast asleep, yet no blankets covered him. Again, he opened them to see the gentle movement of palm shaped objects blocking the brilliant beams overhead. Indeed, they cast larger version of themselves obscuring him in shadow. Inside its coolness he reveled, then sat bold upright when he heard the sound of someone's loud 'kyai's.

"I can't be here," Future Trunks whispered as he glanced down at his clothes, and realized they were those of a long ago outfit. Not much older than the object of his affections now yet he felt the relentless push of an age that this body no longer reflected. Over a smaller chest and shorter legs stretched a capsule T-shirt and grey sweatpants. Particles of sand dropped in long crusty ribbons as he leapt to his feat in a panic.

"What the hell?" future Trunks blinked, seeing the movement of blue and orange in an almost blur across the swirling foaming tide. As it swam into focus, he realized that the blurring was from the tears glistening in his eyes, the same shade as the sky itself free of clouds. At least that is how his mother and others he loved said they were to be described as.

"Azure or crystalline blue were those hues associated with his irises, or even robin's egg. Even his fringe of long hair was gone, replaced with a fall of much shorter hair identical to the style of his 'younger brother'. As he dashed out from the shade of the palm trees into the full glare of the overhead sun, he saw the shape that cast its shadow over him. Poppy red and mandarin orange cloth draped over the muscular figure he drew nightly in his dreams, identified by the circular 'Han' sign on his back. Towering head and shoulders past him at least, the raven-haired fighter turned his countenance in Trunks, his scarred visage holding an unexpected and cheerful smile.

"You dozed off there. I didn't want to wake you up," Future Gohan responded, his voice a deeper and sweeter version of the melodic high tones of Gohan.

"G… Gohan," was all Future Trunks managed to stammer out before pouncing on his mentor. Strong legs pressed violently to launch him forwards into the taller demi's body, his arms wrapping tightly in Gohan's neck as their bodies collided. Such was the force that Future Trunks felt the stagger of his lover and mentor then a pair of strong arms folding around him in a tight grip.

"Whoa, hey, what's wrong? Not that I mind, but…"

"Gohan, just… just don't let go," Future Trunks stammered, his body trembling. Years of pent up desire exploded in seconds, for it felt so real, and he was sure that this had to be reality, far more so then other dreams. Pulling back, he saw the surprise crossing Gohan's smiling face, and then angled his head to cut off any future questions. With slow and rehearsed ease, he slipped his tongue past slightly parted lips and threaded his hand in the hair at the base of Gohan's scalp.

Enthusiastically the kiss was returned, for Future Gohan's lips twisted and he slid his tongue past Trunks, tasting and probing thoroughly. Exhaling a hot pulse of breath that hid a groan, he shifted his weight so he held the youth just off his feet. All Future Trunks wanted was to kiss him, long, hard, and deep and never leave the safety and warmth of those steel hard biceps enfolding him. His unique scent covered Trunks nostrils and he parted with a soft sigh of relief.

Midnight black eyes gazing fondly back at him, half shuttered with desire. Echoing Trunks sigh, Future Gohan drew in a huge breath that pushed his chest further to that of his pupil and lover. He licked his lips and slid his hand under Trunks backside to hold him more securely and support his weight. No words were necessary between them. Future Trunks felt his chin quivering, unable to stop himself from crying because he knew instinctively it could dissolve at any minute from around him.

"Hey, what's gotten into you?" Gohan whispered into his ear as Trunks buried his face in Future Gohan's neck and sobbed.

"I'm not really here. It's another dream. Dammit it's not fair, Gohan," he whispered.

"Shh, easy there," Future Gohan reassured him, rubbing his back with strong fingers. "Tell me what's troubling you?"

"I… any minute now I'll wake up and be alone. It's so painful, and I ache for these times where I can see you again. But… but…" he stammered.

"Relax, just take your time," Future Gohan soothed, setting Trunks down and binding him in a tight firm embrace. Pressing his cheek to the front of his orange vest, Future Trunks struggled to find the words.

"Would you… be angry if I said that I loved someone else… too?" whispered Future Trunks.

"You mean my other self?" Future Gohan asked, frowning slightly. To this, his lavender haired lover buried his face in the blue chainmail reinforced shirt, hiding his eyes from him.

"Yes," he confessed. Soft warm lips deposited a kiss on his brow, and then moved to cover his mouth.

"I'm not angry, Trunks. Maybe jealous, but who wouldn't be? But you can't stop living because of me," Future Gohan whispered, glancing fondly down at him. The frown in fact had been Gohan's serious and studious thinking glance that he'd misinterpreted. Relief filled Trunks and he slowly and shyly drew patterns on Future Gohan's shirt. Then oddly, he realized he stood now at eye level with his chin. He followed his line of site up the blue sleeves of his capsule jacket, then felt something strapped across his chest that shifted as he moved in Gohan's arms.

"You've grown up so much now. Who wouldn't want you? To see you so powerful now is amazing. It would be such a tragic waste not to want to share your life with someone else. I'm a memory. I can't compete with a living breathing person," Future Gohan sadly laughed.

"You're always real to me. I love you Gohan. I won't stop loving you!" Future Trunks choked.

"And that's why you have the strength to love someone else. You deserve it. Don't let me stop you from sharing that love with him. Kami knows he needs you as much as you do him. He's lost his father, and so many depend upon him it wouldn't hurt for him to have someone at his side to love. I can't say I'm not jealous because I am. Yet… I know why," Future Gohan breathed in his face.

"He's got his own life here. I can't ask him to come back with me. I haven't even seen him face to face yet. What if he's found someone else?" Future Trunks whispered, pressing his forehead to Future Gohan's, able to look him straight in the eye now just about. Now the outward appearance reflected his chronological age on the shores of their training island. At last, in his dreams he stood as Gohan's equal and more. Fingering long locks of lavender hair, Future Gohan covered his face in soft kisses.

"You'll just have to take that risk. Are you afraid that he'll only think you want him as a substitute for me? On the other hand, are you afraid that's what you're doing? Transferring what you feel for me still onto him because he happens to be me, in another time?" his mentor guessed.

Sadly Future Trunks nodded, touched that Future Gohan gently wiped away the tears with an index finger. Now only one arm remained as he stepped back, his gi tattered and torn, his face smudged with the dirt and blood of battle. Future Trunks felt the lump forming in his throat again, tears blurring his vision. Here now he would awaken, those same tears staining his pillow while his anatomy south of the boarder hardened with lust. Now teal eyes blinked at him, the upward spikes of his Super Saiyan form gleaming almost more brilliant then the sun that haloed them. Around them the ruins of the battered city raised, the stale and smoky air stinging Trunks nostrils.

Sheathed in Bulma's armor, Future Trunks stood opposite his mentor, long spikes of his own hair reaching like sea urchin spikes in many directions, including his hair in his ponytail. His gloved hands cupped Gohan's face and he leaned forwards for another hard kiss. Arms twined around one another, the two shared the warmth of their breath. Inhaling as much as he could of Gohan's taste, he then reluctantly felt something pulling him back.

Not even the strength of a Super Saiyan could fight fate's pull towards awareness.


	7. Present Gohan

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #07**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is not mine, it belongs to Akira Toriyama. The idea for the plot for this story comes from the doujinshi Our Time by Minea and Manya. I make no money for this._

* * *

Future Trunks opened tear filled eyes. Lying on his hip, he stared at the gleaming rude red letters of the clock. When his mind registered the actual time, he cursed under his breath. How had he slept so late, for those wretched numbers demarcated 2 PM?

"Damn it," he spat, thrusting down on the mattress with one flattened hand. While he was still in limbo between arrival and the news of a job, he had a whole list of things to accomplish today. Among them were buying new business suits in the city.

His sharp ears picked up distant conversation. A high light voice sounded like Chibi Trunks, running around and laughing amidst his grandmother's. If he pressed his ear to the bed as he did now he could hear the sounds transmitted through the floors and walls of Capsule Corp. Still cudgeling his sleep numb brain, he realized his limbs felt heavy as lead.

"I have to get up," he mumbled, flinging the covers aside. As they did for a few days in a row, his feet touched the floor before he wandered over to grab a change of clothes to throw on. At the periphery of his ki sense a potential flared that astonished him. Achingly familiar in magnitude and 'flavor' to someone he never though he would see but who he'd been avoiding all week.

Despite his better judgment, he stripped off his boxers and replaced them for sweat pants, and a capsule T-shirt given to him by Bulma. It was lime green in color, much like the one his younger self sometimes sported. Feet not touching the ground he levitated out of the room, then clamped down hard on his ki to dampen it to almost nothing. So familiar had he become with some kis that he could tell whom they belonged to. Including those of the fighters, he fought alongside of during Cell seven years ago.

A bright blue spot indicated Chibi Trunks, downstairs on the first level near the front entrance. He glanced down the window and saw nothing or no one, but heard the whoosh of the front door. Stealthily he crept down the stairs, keeping to the wall closely as he stole towards the first floor. In sock covered feet, Future Trunks heard the source of laughing and joking growing louder once he reached the hallway leading to the huge common area.

"Finally you got out of the books, you big square!" said Trunks.

"Um, I'm sorry… Trunks. Mom had me cramming before school," chuckled a voice that made Future Trunks heart stop. It was he, his numbed senses realized. No wonder he had been dreaming of his lover, for somehow in the depths of sleep he'd sensed the distant approach of Present Gohan.

"Where's Goten? I thought he dragged you here or something?"

"Nah, I just came by myself. I wanted to ask your mom something, but I guess it can wait. She's a busy woman."

"Ch… yeah," Future Trunks answered. "She's probably doing some boring meeting stuff. If you want to wait for her, we can play some video games. I can still beat your butt at Mazes and Monsters!"

"Well just as long as you don't tell my mom… it's probably good Goten isn't here because he'd let her know for sure. Who needs the news when little brothers are around, eh?" Gohan joked.

Peering around the corner, he saw a slender figure standing with a book bag slung across his body. A goofy smile covered the handsome face, not very different but trapped between the one he'd left behind seven years ago, and that he had just dreamt about. With his back facing Future Trunk's line of site, Kid Trunks rested is hands on his head and laughed along with whatever Gohan had said. A gold star gleamed on the badge pinned to the front of a rather poindexter type vest, and white shirt it covered. Khaki pants completed the ensemble that seemed quite consistent with how Chichi would dress her son for school.

"Damn, why's he here? I'm not ready," Future Trunks thought, and felt his body starting to revolt. Just what was he going to do with those two running around the place, and him dressed like a slob? If Gohan saw him like this, he'd never live it down. Come to think of that, he didn't want Gohan to see him yet? Especially when he would have to compete for attention with his kid self running about. He watched enviously as Kid Trunks grabbed Gohan's sleeve and half dragged him over to the huge plasma TV.

"Actually I've played this game at the arcade with some of my school mates," Gohan confessed. "I surprised the heck out of Sharpener."

"Is that the blonde dude who always tried to hit on Videl?" asked Kid Trunks, letting go of Gohan's sleeve. Lifting the strap, he let the book bag drop to the floor, and then sat down on one of the hassocks near the entertainment center. Kid Trunks opened the twin glass doors below, revealing the Capsuletron 3000 video game system, with its handheld cordless consoles. He tossed one to Gohan, and then punched buttons on the remote to turn on the TV.

Both of them selected the start menu, and tentatively Gohan flickered his thumb over the select button. Similarly, Kid Trunks choose his own warrior with ease, until they had both picked characters for the long adventure style game. Future Trunks recalled playing it with his kid self only two days ago, spending at least four hours reaching level 14. "Wait," Gohan protested, hitting pause.

Kid Trunks groaned, "What's wrong? C'mon you said you'd played this!"

"No it's not that," said Gohan nervously. Future Trunks saw how cute he was temporarily flustered with that half-panicked look.

"What?" Kid Trunks glared at him impatiently.

"Whoever used the console last set it up wrong! None of the buttons are the way I like it," Gohan explained hastily. "I need to reset it…"

"You're just making excuses to stop getting killed before me," Kid Trunks teased him. "Now hurry up!"

"But we can play longer if I set it to custom. Someone overwrote my game file!" Gohan mumbled, flicking through the choices.

"No way, it's still there! Under D!" Kid Trunks interrupted, grabbing the control from him and pressing the button for the configuration of choice.

"Oh um, sorry. Must have missed it," Gohan chuckled, a blush covering his face. "Say, you didn't play on this side did you? With Goten or someone just to set me up?"

"Um I was playing with…" Kid Trunks began. Suddenly Future Trunks bobbed his head into sight, waving his hands frantically no. Because the doorway arch was at a 45-degree angle to the TV, a nearby mirror reflected his image so his kid self could see it, but Gohan couldn't unless he turned his head.

"No, don't!" Future Trunks thought hard in his mind. While he knew Saiyans often used telepathy, he hoped the message would reach his younger self. Indeed, it did for his kid self suddenly flinched and yelped.

"With who?" Gohan asked. Trunks darted around and blocked the mirror as Gohan lifted his head from where the screen was.

"Um with myself!" Future Trunks babbled, seeing the panicked wide-eyed glare on his brother's face. "You know I do the two handed thing just to play both sides cause I get bored whooping the computer!"

Future Trunks ducked out of side, his heart pounding. Something wet dribbled down his cheek and he realized he was sweating. Pressing flat to the wall so he felt the coldness, Future Trunks squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the two gamers progress amidst chirps and trills of electronic music. Slowly he slid down the wall before hitting the floor with a thump.

"What was that?" Gohan asked, his ear twitching with the foreign sound.

_Damn demi Saiyan senses_, Future Trunks cursed, flinching. An instant later, he heard his doppelganger blurt out, "Nah that's just me stamping my foot cause it's awesome you're playing with me after so long with your nose stuck in those books!"

"Well you're good at math and science yourself, according to Bulma-san," Gohan reminded him.

"Can't you stop talking about school? Ugh! We're trying to play. You want me to hurl on the console?" Kid Trunks scolded him.

Another tiny ki sparked Future Trunks senses, indicating that his mother was back at the front door. Heaving a sigh of relief, he leaned back against the wall, and tried to slow his racing heartbeats. Electronic music stopped abruptly, telling him that Gohan must have hit pause, which was further confirmed by Kid Trunks' grunt of "Aww c'mon!"

"Hello Bulma-san!" Gohan's voice said politely. Clothing rustled, as he must be rising to his feet.

In jus the next room, Trunks perceived her light footsteps vibrating the floor under his thighs. He pressed his ear to the wall and listened carefully. Bulma said, "Well hello Gohan! What brings you here… what a surprise…"

"Um yeah… I thought a bookworm ate him, seriously!" Kid Trunks chimed in.

"Can I talk to you alone, Bulma-san?"

"Hey, what about our game?" demanded the lavender haired demi.

"We'll finish it later. I promise Trunks!" Gohan quickly reassured him.

"Damn," Kid Trunks swore.

"Trunks watch your language in front of your mom!" Gohan scolded him sharply before Bulma could even utter a word.

"He's right. Why don't you go find something else to do while I talk to Gohan, hmm?" asked Bulma.

"All right, whatever," Kid Trunks said sulkily. He tromped out of the room, stamping all the way. However as he stomped past Future Trunks, his elder self grabbed his arm and tugged him with a finger held to his lips.

"What?" Kid Trunks began, before a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Shh," Trunks hissed. Inside his mind, Kid Trunks heard the reverberation of that fleshless voice forming itself into words.

_Don't blow my cover please! I don't' want him to know I'm here!_

_Just let me go will ya? What's got you so freaked out, Nii-san?_ Kid Trunks telepathed back. Blinking, his older version marveled at how skilled the response was. Vegeta had taught him the principles of such communication well. Like crystals precipitating from mother liquor, their respective words merged from a cacophony of thoughts into the link they'd forged.

Finger to his lips, Future Trunks aimed his thoughts, _It would spoil my secret plan. Please trust me, Chibi._

In response, Kid Trunks wrinkled his nose. He psychically pathed, _But I don't get it… I mean don't you want him to know you're here, or are you doing some sort of fight training?_

_Gohan hasn't seen me for years. I don't know what to stay to him, or how he'll react. So I want to surprise him. Kind of like an ambush to see how he takes it. You get it don't you, since your dad does such exercises in showing Saiyan ability to react to any unknown._

Perceiving this, Kid Trunks doubt melted into an ear-to-ear grin. Azure eyes the same shade as his twinkled equally bright with mischief. He nodded vigorously enough for his fall of lavender hair to bob up and down. _I get it. Gohan will have the crap scared out of him because he's slacked off. My dad's always getting on his case for that._

_Right. We don't want Gohan-san to get soft, Chibi. We're doing him a favor. So don't' tell Goten even that I'm here, okay?_ giggled Future Trunks through their astral link. Two peals of psychic laughter bubbled across empty space, and kid Trunks hunkered down next to his new accomplice. Both of them intently listened to the conversation they had missed a great portion of.

"Well, I don't want them focusing on me at school, you see," said Gohan, scratching his head.

From just inside the adjoining room, Future Trunks squeezed his young doppelganger's shoulder. _Tell me what you see, Chibi. Broadcast the thoughts to me,_ Future Trunks requested. _Call it an exercise._

_Okay. He's doing that lame thing where he's rubbing the back of his neck and looking all goofy like Goten does. Drives me up the wall. Mom's trying to keep him from doing it… and then…_

"Well I have the perfect plan to stop them from staring at you. I mean they do know you're the Great Saiyaman, so I have a perfect distraction!" Bulma announced cheerfully.

_Oh now she's jumping up and down like she does when she's gotten a new hairdo,_ Kid Trunks described. Quite clearly the images of what he saw by peeking around the corner were broadcasted into his 'brother's mind.

_Is she?_ Future Trunks nodded slowly. It was comical to see his mother dancing around in excitement like a cheerleader. Considering she was middle aged, she retained a good deal of youth and exuberance.

"Leave it to me, Gohan. Nobody will even notice you once my secret plan goes into effect!"

"But Bulma-san, what is it?" Gohan managed to ask. Future Trunks could just see through Kid Trunks eyes how cute he looked, being so clueless. Blood crossed his palate and he realized that he was biting hard on the inner slick surface of his lip with clenched teeth.

_She must know you're hiding here, Nii-san because she's pushing him to the door,_ Kid Trunks related. _Way to go Mom._

Future Trunks swept his hand across his brow, and heaved a sigh of relief. _Good job. Guess that 'women's intuition' is alive and well. You didn't think to her did you? _

_No way. Mom knows. Cause she's mom,_ Kid Trunks confirmed.

The door clicked shut, and then they heard her footsteps vibrating the floor minutely. "Okay Boys the coast is clear. You can come out!" Bulma called. Meekly Future Trunks and Kid Trunks angled their heads around the wall to see Bulma standing there facing them. She suppressed the grin covering her attractive face, resting her hands on her hips.

"I know you were listening in. He's gone now. And it's time for you to get a new work wardrobe, Trunks," she motioned to them.

"Him or me?" Future Trunks lamely joked.

"No way! She means you, Nii-san!" Kid Trunks glared up at him. "And you know what that means… shopping."

"Shopping's not THAT bad," Future Trunks shrugged.

"Oh no, you're not dragging ME along!" Kid Trunks blinked incredulously.

"Actually it wouldn't be a bad idea. You could show him around the mall, honey. I'll come too, just to give my own critical eye," Bulma rubbed her hands together. Both demis exchanged glances. Future Trunks shrugged with a smug smile while Kid Trunks glared at him in frustration.

"But I was supposed to play with Goten," Kid Trunks protested. "I mean someone has to keep him from finding out the big secret, right?"

"Very true, good thinking kiddo," Bulma ruffled his hair.

"I think I can handle this mission on my own, Mom," Future Trunks smiled. "I've got a pretty good idea what a professional wardrobe looks like…"

A gust of wind almost knocked Bulma over if her son didn't steady her when Future Trunks flew out of the room. Bulma had a good idea of just why he was in such a hurry. Especially when she knew, that Gohan was still probably on the grounds. Upstairs behind a window, Future Trunks glanced down at the main complex of Capsule, where a lone figure was exiting the campus. He slipped through the window that was still open and silently hovered closer.

It was Gohan. Wandering around looking endearingly lost and confused. Future Trunks had to restrain his impulse to reveal himself immediately. Instead, he contented himself with ducking into the cover of a tree when Gohan spun around in confusion. He could swear he sensed a familiar ki for an instant before it vanished altogether. Reaching up he scratched his head and shrugged.

"Probably just Trunks playing a game on me. Sulking because I didn't finish the game," Gohan smiled to himself. Content with his answer he strode towards the parking lot.

"Depends on what game you're playing, Gohan," whispered Future Trunks from the shade of a large gnarled tree. His heart pounded ever faster in his breast from the elusive chase. Why was it so alluring to gaze at him from afar, watching the movement of his back muscles under those nerdy yet respectable clothes? His eyes widened to see Gohan reach into his bag and pull something out of it. Casually Gohan slung a blue jacket over his shoulders, stopping only for a moment to slide his arms into it.

"Kind of chilly," Gohan shivered, tugging the halves of a blue Capsule corps jacket closed to button them.

"He kept it," Future Trunks whispered to himself, a warm glow shimmering from deep inside. Darting to the next tree, he watched Gohan's graceful stride that pumped his pulse ever harder.

"Soon Gohan, you'll see me again," Future Trunks vowed, keeping well out of sight. It took every ounce of self-control not to follow. There would be ample time in the days ahead. Now he felt free and clear to pursue a new future, safe in the knowledge that the one he once loved would not hold him back. In fact, Gohan's other self must be watching from afar and hoping that Trunks would find another deserving of that love.


	8. Mr Trunks physics teacher

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #08**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. The idea for the fan fiction comes from the doujinshi Our Time by Manya and Minea. I make no money for this fan fiction. Again thanks to Lord Truhan for help and encouragement with this!_

* * *

At Orange Star High school, the new Physics class met. The dull din of conversation thrummed in the room like white noise without static. In small clusters centered on popular students sat the others, instead of in a uniform distribution. Halfway between the front and back one such knot had Videl as its nucleus. To her right sat Erasa Graphite, and to her left Gohan Son. Immediately behind him, Sharpener Gummy set his books down and tossed a few pens haphazardly across the binder. Presumably, Sharpener sought to copy his notes, Gohan surmised. However, his clever plan was thwarted by the fact that Gohan's scribbles were indecipherable.

"You've got the handwriting of a doctor," Erasa leaned over and whispered.

"That's not good because my mom wants me to be a scientist," Gohan joked back.

"Guys, shhh, the teacher's coming in any minute," Videl hushed for silence.

Gohan opened his spiral composition book with its marbled cover to a clean page, and then folded it back. Behind him Sharpener buzzed, "What are you taking notes for the first day, Bookworm? Hoping to get in good with the teach for us?"

"You wish," Videl glanced back at him. "This time don't draw pictures of the teacher's ass will you?"

"Hey, that was a biology class. It was study," Sharpener teased back.

"You guys shhh," Erasa mimicked Videl, a finger held up before her pursed lips. What made Gohan wonder was why Videl always insisted on sitting between him and Erasa? Initially he surmised it was because Videl was potentially marking out her territory. By placing herself between Gohan and Erasa, she was blocking any unwelcome affection towards Gohan.

Yet recent events cast aspersions on this theory, riddling it with many holes. Gohan could swear that Erasa tagged along more and more on their little dates. Sharpener even joined them, to round out the group to a convenient four. Ever since they all learned his secret identity, they clustered around him and Videl like groupies. Was it out of respect, pity or something else, Gohan wondered? In addition, he didn't fail to notice the heat of Sharpener's eyes on him.

"Poor guy probably has the hots for me for all I know," Gohan blushed, scratching pen into paper to write the date.

Two months after Buu's demise, and the memory of Saiyaman's secret identity faded into obscurity. Rather the crowds recalled the Gold Fighter and Saiyaman were the same. None remembered Son Gohan's name. Rather they recalled the epic match between Trunks and Goten instead. Even the terrifying Vegeta who had blown away half the stadium was conveniently folded into the collective amnesia surrounding Majin Buu's identity. A carefully worded coda on the wish insured nobody would remember the villainy of Vegeta's transition to Darkness.

It had been Goku's idea, supported wholeheartedly by the others. The last thing Capsule needed was more publicity. Already its heir apparent was the reigning youth division champion. Goten had to content himself with second place. Something else though flashed randomly through Gohan's brooding mind. On the other hand, was it the crumpled up paper that landed against the back of his neck from above? Turning around he glared up at Sharpener.

"What?" he hissed.

"Look alive, Bookworm. You can't impress the new teach if you're already nose down in the book. Look sharp he's here!" Sharpener cautioned. A bob of his long blonde mane indicated the slowly creaking door.

Clothes rustled as twenty-seven students in Applied Physics college prep straightened up in their seats, eager to show the best possible first impression. Angela, further up in the back row let out a whoop of glee. Other female students contained their gasps of surprise when the professional sashayed in with his tan suit. In one hand, he carried a tan briefcase that matched his shoes.

Short hair cropped to touch his shapely ears delineated an air of respect. As he swung around, he honed his azure eyes in a long panoramic sweep of the classroom. Once Gohan's eyes beheld their new teacher, his heart stopped for a full second. Hot blood flushed to his face when the crystalline blue eyes rested on him for an instant longer, and bestowed a quick wink.

"Good afternoon class. I'm Mr. Briefs. I'm sure you're all eager to learn quantum physics as I am to teach it," he said crisply, cinching up his dark brown tie. That salmon shirt set it off nicely, complimenting the light lavender hair gleaming sleek under the classroom lights.

"I'll learn anything if HE'S teaching it," Erasa whispered.

"He looks familiar," Videl whispered. She nudged Gohan, who sat with his jaw wide open.

"Hey, bookworm, you could catch a fly in that," Sharpener tossed another wadded up piece of paper at Gohan's neck.

"If you'd be so kind as to pass out the syllabus, we'll get started," said the teacher.

"I'll do it!" Angela chirped from the back row.

Mr. Briefs gracefully strode up and met her halfway in the aisle. He presented her with the neat stack of stapled pamphlets so she could pass them around to the end rows before scurrying happily back to her seat. Collectively papers rustled from each student taking a syllabus off the pile and passing it down.

"Gohan, wake up," Videl snapped her fingers before his face.

Shock and surprise fixed his face into a strange expression. Normally pale skin blanched two shades ghostly white, making her wonder what specter had surfaced from his past that coincided with this teacher's arrival. Facts ruffled through her mind, causing her to wonder what other secrets Gohan had not yet disclosed. Just when she thought she'd learned everything, another tidbit blew that notion to hell.

"Huh, what?" Gohan blinked. Coming to his senses, he grabbed a syllabus for himself before pushing the stack to the student on his other side.

Bic Penn glanced up at Sharpener who was staring pensively at Mr. Briefs. By now, the teacher had repositioned himself behind the front desk near his briefcase. Open, it obscured whatever else was inside. Brass catches caught the light, along with the initials scribed there in matching metal. Like all things Gohan, Sharpener, and his friends were suspicious.

"Graphite, Erasa," he read from the role book.

"Here!"

"Satan, Videl?"

"Present," she held up her hand.

"Son Gohan?"

"Uh… here sir!" Gohan yelped through his tightening throat. He tugged his finger into his collar that seemed a bit tight all of a sudden. Any other names passed into a dull din, fading while the fast pounding of his heart rose in prominence.

Why did that heartbeat and the rush of his blood drown all else out, Gohan wondered. His eyes riveted themselves to Mr. Brief's procession from behind the podium to the chalkboard. Fingering a white piece of chalk, Mr. Briefs turned his back to the classroom and presented a very enticing rear view effectively grabbing the attention of the female contingent. Videl rolled her eyes when Erasa leaned forward in her chair to watch their teacher raise his sleeved arm and mark down the class title.

"Here's my office and email address," he announced. Curling his fingers around something else in the chalk tray, he seized hold of the item then spun around. In one hand, he brandished a meter stick, and in his other, he still held the piece of chalk.

"All right, since we're all here, let me welcome you to Quantum Mechanics. I just want to lay down a few ground rules and we'll navigate this course in due time. I expect we're all adults here, so the first thing I want to get straight is that for every hour in here you need to spend at least two getting ready. It's your job to do so, as mine is to convey the information," Future Trunks explained. Again, he presented his back scribing Rule 1 on the board.

"Hard-ass alert," Videl whispered.

"Hard ass all right and it's a cute one," Erasa whispered.

"Knock it off you two," Gohan hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Videl cocked a graceful slender brow in interest.

Chalk narrowly squeaked a second, eliciting dozens of clenched teeth. Half turning this time Mr. Briefs smiled, "Rule 2. Turn off all your cell phones and pull those phones out of your ear right now. Or I'll ad them to my collection… that especially includes you, Mister Penn…"

Quickly he strode up to the middle row aisle, and pointed towards a section of audience. Classmates around Bic nudged him, and he yanked the headphones out of his ears under the scrutiny of Mr. Brief's penetrating blue stare. "Sorry sir!"

"One warning. The next time, and I confiscate it. Is that clear?"

"Yes Mr. Briefs," Bic apologized, shoving his CD player into his backpack.

Then Mr. Briefs swiveled and resumed a slow orbit that took him back to the board. "Rule Three, no snapping gum. If it's in your mouth, it had better be on the way to your stomach, or had better be words coming out of your mouth when I call on you, right Miss Skye?"

"Um… yes sir, sorry," Angelia batted her eyelashes at him. She pulled out her gum and wedged it behind her ear.

"I think this is a more appropriate place," Future Trunks aimed his meter stick at the trashcan.

"Right, sorry," she blushed cutely, wrapping it up in the foil and passing it meekly over to his outstretched hand as she rose. He tossed it into the garbage.

"Rule Four. No talking amongst yourselves in class. Outside class you can chat all you want, and hopefully about the homework assignment. In fact, I encourage study groups. There's safely in numbers. So look to your left and right and exchange phone numbers," he instructed, setting the trashcan down and returning to the board.

"Gohan, you look sick," Erasa whispered. "You all right?"

"No call from the guys in town," Videl glanced down at her watch.

"Is there something you want to share with the class Miss Graphite?" Mr. Briefs interrupted. "Or you Miss Satan?"

"No sir, sorry sir," Videl answered quickly. "I was just checking the time… to make sure… I was…"

"Are you in a hurry to go somewhere? I hope not. Just as I was getting to rule five," Mr. Briefs smiled sweetly, but his blue eyes gleamed with sternness.

"Right… rule five," Videl answered, folding her hands on the top of her book.

"Zing," Sharpener whispered with a grin.

"Rule Five… always come to class prepared. This underlines rule one. And I see that at least a few of us are already in the right mindset, right MR. Son?" Mr. Briefs asked, tapping his ruler lightly on the palm of his hand.

"Um yes sir, of course," Gohan managed to answer.

"Excellent Mr. Son. Now, let's all plunge in feet first. Take your textbooks out, and I expect you DO have them, and if you don't, please look on someone else's," he indicated, sweeping the yardstick out to indicate the whole class.

"Shit," Sharpener mumbled, fumbling for his. Gohan tensely glanced up once more, his eyes meeting those of Future Trunks. Rooted to the spot he was pinned under their probing insistent gaze. A slow smile spread across Trunks face, another slow wink collapsing all time to a tense hot second where Gohan felt the whole class dissolve away.

However, Sharpener by this time had brought his book out, and let it thump to the table with a slap that broke Gohan's concentration. Glaring up he noticed the strange expression passing between Mr. Briefs and Gohan. For some reason the teacher had stopped right in front of Gohan's section of the room, and fixed his gaze for longer than just thirty seconds on the shy nerd. True to his name, he glared sharply at the teacher, angular features drawing into a sneer.

Instantly two sets of blue eyes met in an unspoken challenge. Gohan felt as if he wanted to shrink away into his chair when he saw the angry glare narrow Trunks eyes, his lavender brows knitting. "Is there something wrong or do you enjoy making sour faces to the class Mr. Gummy?" Trunks sternly scolded.

"What? I didn't do anything!" Sharpener snapped back.

"Your attention is not on your book like it should be. Perhaps you'd like to pick up that pail there and stand in the hallway?" Future Trunks asked, slapping his yardstick down sharply on the desk. Sharpener flinched.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong!" Sharpener blurted out.

"In the hallway now, Mr. Gummy. Go cool off and come back when you're ready to learn something! I consider not having my book out as evidence you think you can just skate through…"

A dull murmur answered, and he barked, "Anyone else want to join him?"

"Stupid pain in the ass," Sharpener mumbled, climbing out of his seat and marching up to grab a sign and pail of water.

"You too, Mr. Penn. You seem to have something to add to the discussion or do you want to keep him company?"

"Sorry sir," Bic mumbled, marching off after Sharpener. The whole class fell deadly silent as the teacher shoved a pail and sign into each student's hands and marched them out of the classroom.

"Oh man," Gohan groaned as he hid his face in his hand. Embarrassed, Sharpener hung the sign around his neck before exiting.

"I'll say this, he doesn't put up with crap," Videl nodded slowly with a look of respect. "But he still looks familiar."

"Shh, he's coming back," Erasa whispered, nudging Videl. Gohan by now slouched down in his chair, hoping that his molecules would slip into the wood and let him sink into a large hole. The slamming of the door by Mr. Briefs caused him to flinch yet again, along with the rest of the class.

"Now," Mr. Briefs said politely, setting the yardstick down on the table. "Before we were interrupted, turn to chapter one. We'll start out with the history of Quantum mechanics, and why it's so important."

The rest of the class flashed by Gohan in a numb blur. He was thankful that it wouldn't be much longer until he got an answer for why his new teacher was in fact a blast from his past. Although he was thrilled to see his old friend again, his senses screamed for a suitable explanation why Future Trunks hadn't stopped by to see him in private. Just what was he trying to prove?

_You're not paying attention, Gohan_, whispered a voice in his mind. Gohan snapped up, almost blurting out an apology aloud before he snapped his mouth shut.

"Still with us, Mr. Son?" Mr. Briefs said aloud. Gohan's cherry red cheeks almost gave him away, and he turned his face aside from the others. He hoped his friends would assume he was embarrassed from being caught not paying attention.

"Yes sir, sorry sir, you were talking about Heisenberg's uncertainty principle?" he stammered.

"Very good, Mr. Son. Miss Satan, is he right?"

"Yes Mr. Briefs," she responded, her own eyes clouded with suspicion. Why Gohan seemed so edgy and antsy around the teacher screamed alarm bells in her head. Now she had a much clearer confirmation that Gohan must have recognized Mr. Briefs from sometime in the past. A careful look at his appearance still needed outside research to refute her theory.

"He looks like one of the guys who showed up on the day Dad fought Cell," she thought. "No wait… he looks a hell of a lot like Trunks Briefs… Goten's best friend and Bulma's son. But how could that be… unless he's a cousin… and his last name is the same…"

"Miss Satan, is there something unclear in the text?" Mr. Briefs interrupted her. It was her turn to flinch.

"Sorry I wasn't sure about this one equation…" she blurted out. Gohan glanced quickly away, shaking his head.

_**Please Trunks, don't…**_ Gohan pleaded silently.

To his relief and intense surprise, it was as if Future Trunks had heard him very clearly, especially when he cast Videl and the class a warm smile. Glancing down at his watch he said, "That's a lot for today. Tonight I want you to do the questions for chapter one and we'll resume tomorrow where we left off…"

"Phew," Erasa wiped her brow, numbers swimming in her brain. She slapped her book shut, while others whipped out their notebooks to scribble down the assignment Trunks wrote on the chalkboard. Another tap on Gohan's shoulder roused him from his stupor, and he closed his notebook with a sigh.

Sharpener resurfaced from the hall, a sullen look plastered on his face as he sauntered up to collect his books. Patiently Mr. Briefs looked on, while packing things into his case once more. Gohan abruptly glanced away from the teacher, focusing on thrusting books into his own bag. Slinging it across his shoulder, he waited for Videl and Erasa to finish putting things away. Like pigeons, departing a statue when disrupted the students vacated the class once the bell rang.

* * *

Gohan stumbled past Mr. Briefs as he exited the class. A gentle hand caught his arm, steadying him. "Be careful there, Mr. Son. We can't have you tripping and falling on the first day of the semester can we?" Mr. Briefs said with an amused smile.

"No we can't… I um… I'm I've got to go," Gohan stammered, feeling electricity tingling through him at the pressure of Trunks hand steadying his arm. Mischief twinkling his blue eyes, Future Trunks released Gohan's arm.

"Perhaps you'd like to see me after class, Mr. Son?" he whispered.

"Stop it… people will notice," Gohan gritted his teeth. Future Trunks backed away, and Gohan rushed into the group of students clambering through t he halls. Once he thought it was safe Gohan leaned heavily against his locker door. Face flushed with embarrassment and something else, he felt his body tingling from head to toe.

"Gohan," said a voice to his left.

"What?" he snapped.

"Easy Gohan, what's gotten into you?" Erasa asked sweetly, hand on his shoulder.

"Gohan, are you all right? You look like you saw a ghost. You knew that person didn't you. The teacher?" Videl said.

"Um what makes you say that?" Gohan quickly smiled forcefully, rubbing the back of his neck vigorously. However, Videl's frustrated stare stopped his feeble denial cold.

"Gohan please, don't even TRY to hide it," Videl glared at him accusingly. "He looks exactly like one of the guys who fought Cell…"

"I… please Videl can we discuss it later?" he hissed, intimating Erasa standing there. Sighing, Videl relented. Gohan was thankful the bag slung in front of his hip covered the obvious erection tenting the front of his pants. Just how he would explain that away he hated to think.


	9. Teacher's Pet?

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #08**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I don't' own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This story is based on the doujinshi Our Time by Manya and Minea. Thanks to Lord Truhan for help and encouragement of this story. I make no money from this fan fiction._

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day, Gohan reigned in his runaway emotions. The spectrum ranged from hot infrared frustration to the ultraviolet high energies of sexual desire. Hidden frequencies locked away now increased in amplitude only seen in the peak of adolescence. Although he had fooled around a bit with Videl, the arousal he had for her paled in comparison to what rushed his blood at fever pitch now.

Not sure of whether to damn Trunks or smother him with kisses. Gohan stumbled through his last period. He was thankful for the physical education release, though he had to hold back when hitting the ball with a light tap that still caused a home run advantage. Sharpener had thrown a towel at Gohan's flushed face just as they entered the locker room shower, cutting off his vision.

"Hey!" he had choked, brushing the offending terrycloth aside. Sharpener smirked an expression worthy of Vegeta, freaking him out.

"You with us, Nerd?" he asked.

"No comment," Gohan glared at sharpener. "After that little stunt today you'd better rein it in!"

"You on teacher's side? Wanting to become the teacher's pet?" Sharpener winked at him.

"Shut up Sharpener. Don't push me. I'm not having a good day, you know," Gohan growled.

"Whoa, whoa, settle down," Sharpener backed away, spooked by the fierceness in Gohan's face. "I was just teasing!"

"You think I LIKE being singled out in class any more then you do, Sharpener?" Gohan asked, slamming his locker door open. He tugged out boxers and other garments, hastily dressing.

"So that's why you're so pissy. Figures. At least I'm not the only one embarrassed by mister Drill sergeant Nasty," Sharpener commiserated. Gohan heaved a huge sigh of relief, glad that the blonde-haired guy had taken the bait.

"Any more then you liked holding a pail in the hall, Sharpener," Gohan agreed, tugging up his boxers. He smirked a bit when he felt the heat of Sharpener's gaze on his backside. Let the guy have a look. It was flattering to think that Sharpener really WAS ogling him. It would explain why the jock was so insistent on teasing him.

"Well that teacher has another thing coming if he thinks he can push me around. He'd better not do anything to take me from the baseball season or football, or else Coach Eyeshield will give him hell," Sharpener cautioned, preening himself in the mirror. He saw Gohan glancing over at him with a small smile, and felt his heart skip a beat. Slowly he flexed the muscles in his back, hoping to show off.

Gohan laughed at the obvious attempt to get a mutual ogle and threw a towel at Sharpener's head. "If anything your GPA won't be in any danger of plummeting faster than your boxer shorts when you hit the shower."

"You'd enjoy that wouldn't you?" Sharpener said as he moved over and made a mock kissing sound near Gohan's ear.

"Maybe, if I was interested," Gohan whispered back, and then Sharpener felt a slap on his shoulder that was rather firm. What he thought would freak the poor nerd out had only given the opposite result.

"What was that? You don't know what you're missing nerd boy," Sharpener glared back.

"I'm going home," Gohan said, pulling on his shirt. Back facing the fuming Sharpener, he buttoned it up, suddenly realizing he had started it unevenly and had to redo it.

"Jerk," Sharpener pulled a face, yanking his wife-beater shirt on. "He doesn't know when he has it good."

Still Sharpener didn't feel as if he wanted to give up. So Gohan wasn't interested, was he? Well perhaps if he could see WHAT he was missing, then he'd change his mind. Either that or his suspicions were very much founded in reality. It had to be because of that teacher. Sharpener may have the advantage of brawn over brains, but he was no imbecile. Rather the opposite; for Sharpener felt as if something was horning in on his 'territory'. Gohan was his project, not some young handsome intellectual who liked to push students around.

Leaving the locker room behind him, Gohan felt the coolness of the air evaporating the water from his skin nicely. It aided in quelling the nervous hot sensations flooding his body with strange tingles hundreds of times that when Videl would look his way. While it was interesting that Sharpener just made a pass at him, he had no interest in the jock. Sure he was nice to look at, but Gohan's mind only wanted to focus on the sharp dressed man who had landed abruptly back into his life.

Yet what would he do when he confronted Trunks face to face? Surely, there would be some way to talk to him without fear of reprisal. If Future Trunks intended what Gohan suspected in his gut, the opportunity might just literally fall in his lap. Occupied by all these thoughts he strode down the halls towards the exit. To reach it he passed by the door to the teacher's lounge opposite the cafeteria.

Shadows moved behind the opaque glass window covered in black letters. The doorknob clicked, swinging the door to in the busy hallway. Gohan dodged around the door spilling several well-dressed faculties into the stream already moving thickly with students going home for the day. Among those two-piece suits of dove gray, plaid and herringbone, the tan fawn suit stood out, along with its lavender haired owner moving towards him.

"Oh man, what do I say, what do I do?" Gohan panicked, stopping dead where he stood. As a deer staked out by a predator, he froze in place motionless out of instinct. Students simply walked around him on either side as Mr. Briefs swam through the thick of them to arrive at Gohan's side.

"Mr. Son, good to see you. I'd been hoping to catch you before you went home," Future Trunks said in that same crisp professional tone warmed with a hint of polite pleasantness.

"Yes T… Mr. Briefs," Gohan answered, staring straight ahead with ramrod stiff posture.

"At ease, Mr. Son. This isn't military school. I made up a list of tutors for my class and figured you'd be perfect," Mr. Briefs said, snapping the clasps on his briefcase while resting it on one hip.

Still not looking at him, Gohan said, "Sir?"

"You don't have a problem with that, do you, Mr. Son?" asked Trunks with a slight smile. The mask of professionalism shielded everything except the hopeful twinkle in his blue gaze. Once clean hands felt clammy again with renewed sweat, and Gohan felt the steady climb of his temperature.

"No… but it's rather… sudden," Gohan swallowed hard, his voice unsteady.

"I thought you should have my number and address if you have any questions or need to meet about the particulars," Mr. Briefs said matter of fact. Rife with double entendre, the two danced verbally, each anticipating what the other would next voice.

"Today?" Gohan asked voice low as he glanced from side to side. Under a microscope he felt, ready for the scrutiny of every student who might stare and point at him. Yet he realized no students glanced in their direction for more than a split second before returning to their lockers or heading out the door. Other professors were catching other students in mid trip out the door and handing over business cards.

"If that would fit into your schedule. I know you students are very busy," Future Trunks nodded. It was so transparent to Gohan, especially with the pleading look in Trunks blue eyes, struggling to keep up a professional front yet wanting more.

In his gut, Gohan felt the need that matched his own. He had to find out for himself as soon as he could why Future Trunks was here. Something told him time was of the essence now more than ever. Between two fingers Future Trunks, a.k.a. Mr. Briefs offered a business card printed with neat black lettering on lavender card stock. Gohan tentatively extended his hand and reached for it. Fingers brushed with a quick jolting shock that projected blue energy behind Gohan's eyes. The entire atmosphere tingled with Trunks Ki, barely suppressed but wafting him over him invisibly, questing for something more.

It had worked in the class, Gohan thought. Perhaps he could try again. Focusing hard he then looked Trunks square in the eyes, dark black sinking into cerulean. _"You need to see me, don't you?"_

Blue electricity sparked the gap. Drowning in that cool refreshing blue, Gohan felt placid calm douse him. That fever that shivered his muscles temporarily steadied standing in his presence. Clear thoughts answered,**_ "Yes, Gohan. I've waited a long time. We need to talk._**"

The thoughts were inside his mind in a split instant as he weighed them, for he found himself hearing Future Trunks say aloud, "I really could use your help. The sooner we work out a schedule, the faster you can help the students."

Without hesitation Gohan answered, "All right then, you've got my attention. I'll see what I can work out."

"Good. I'm glad," Future Trunks nodded, smiling warmly. Reaching out he clasped Gohan's hand in his own. The firmness of his hand shaking the other seemed a poor substitute for all the things suddenly flooding into Gohan's fertile imagination. Palms and fingers fully touching for the first time, the jolt of live ki tingled far greater and reached far deeper into a hunger that Gohan hardly realized he possessed. Although it was a small surge of Trunks ki, it felt deliciously warm and inviting.

Gohan answered it with a pulse of his own. He realized he didn't want to let go, but reluctantly missed the warmth of Trunks hand releasing his and stepping back. Gone was the comfort of his aura washing over Gohan's, opening a large gaping vacuum that ached in Gohan's chest. Through ki, a strange intimacy of greeting like a kiss or a hug had been a substitute for the physical contact he craved. Glancing at Trunks tanned skin he felt the urge to taste those lips, and inhale the scent of that silky soft hair.

"I'll see you later. You'll call me to let me know when we can meet and iron out the details," Mr. Briefs asked, now standing a foot away.

"Yes. I'll call as soon as I let mom know where I am," said Gohan quickly. With a last glance at Trunks smiling face, he rushed out of the building. Suddenly he felt very naked and bare in his emotions now revealed through the ki exchange. Open to scrutiny and afraid of someone having seen them, he knew it would have only appeared as an innocent teacher student discussion. In reality, it was the fear of losing the chance to see for himself if his suppositions years ago were false or true.

With a click, Gohan replaced the receiver of the pay phone. The change he had deposited jingled down into the heart of the machine, and then hit the bottom of the coin box with a definitive thud. It sounded the end of one period of his life, and the beginning of the new. Inside the glass booth, he felt a measure of safety from the confrontation to come. Mom had refreshingly understood when Gohan announced he had a teacher conference about a tutoring job. She wholeheartedly agreed it was a great opportunity, releasing him from the guilt of not returning home for a family dinner.

Shadows diagonally fell across Gohan's path along the walkway to the twenty-story apartment complex. Sheathed in glass on one side and brick along the other two he could see, it dwarfed the townhouses around it. Only the high spherical towers a few blocks away reached its height. Shielding his eyes with his hands Gohan leaned back slightly to bring the top into view. Other hand holding the card with the address he then peered down at it to confirm the number. Apartment 19 C it said. The building wasn't a mere column with sphere on top; rather it was a nontraditional rectangle with two side wings that were smaller rectangles. Christened Capsule Towers, it was a place where many employees of the Satan City Capsule branch lived.

"Figures he'd live here. Well at least it isn't Capsule Corps. Somehow that would make this even more awkward," Gohan murmured to himself.

Tentatively he continued down the walkway, stepping over every crack. While he wasn't superstitious, he felt the sudden need to continue his self-control lest he jinx this upcoming confrontation. The last thing he needed was an irked mother disparaging him from reuniting with an old friend. Although the light reflected off the glass windows had deepened from white to a gold hue, he could still see the sun gleaming off the glass and beaming its reflection down into the street below. The first few stories of the building were a parking deck and promenade of shops, indicating a gated entry and concierge. The closer he approached the main circular drive, the more Gohan's shadow was swallowed up by the huge one cast by the skyscraper.

Even wearing his blue capsule corps jacket Gohan felt a bit out of place. Fortunately, he was far more nicely dressed then most high school students, which earned him an affirming, nod from the door attendant standing near the awning. "Evening sir," he touched his cap.

"Good Evening. I'm here to visit someone please," Gohan said, holding out the card.

"You can page him at the front desk. Have a nice evening," the door attendant smiled, glancing down at the business card Gohan held only briefly. He waved Gohan through with an encouraging smile, glancing appreciatively at Gohan's clothes.

"Well mom, I guess you were right about being dressed for success," Gohan chuckled to himself, walking through the door that was held open wide for him. Across the threshold, he stepped into a rather wealthy world for a high school teacher. While he knew Orange Star High was one of the better schools, most of its employees wouldn't be able to afford an apartment in a condominium like this unless they had money or connections.

Underfoot the thick carpet yielded softly to his polished shoes. Gohan approached the concierge, who asked for identification. The maroon suited personnel all were neatly groomed, reminding him of a hotel. Like with the door attendant he had little trouble getting the approval of the concierge to press a button and call up to the condominium. Like the other apartment units where you pressed a buzzer and waited, he still stood by the elevator to wait for the party he was visiting.

"He says go on up, Mr. Son," said the concierge politely.

"Thank you," Gohan nodded, and strode across the glossy marble floor to the oak paneled elevator doors. Even the interiors were tiled in frosted mirror, with brass handles inside. Heart pounding he rode the car to the top, and then made his way down the hall towards the apartment described to him on the card.

No sooner had he set foot on the welcome mat and raised his hand to knock, the latch clicked. He flinched, frowning that Future Trunks could at least keep up the pretense of normalcy by letting him ring the doorbell. As the dual latches clicked open, and the door was pulled slightly to, a pair of blue eyes peered from around the door before the strong hand pulled the door completely inwards.

"Took you long enough," Future Trunks answered, a large smile spreading across his face. Far different and less guarded then his previous demeanor, it took Gohan by surprise. Instead of the two-piece suit, the comfortable corduroy pants and pullover sweater bespoke casual comfort.

"Isn't this a bit rich for the blood of a high school teacher?" Gohan asked, with a slight smile. Despite his attempt to keep calm, he felt his pulse race even faster than it had in the school. There they had the barrier of student and teacher to hide behind, but those walls were broken down leaving Gohan feeling far more vulnerable than ever.

"Well are you going to just stand out there staring at me, or are you going to come in, Gohan? It's been ages," Future Trunks laughed, reaching out to grasp his hand. Gohan felt relief flooding him, and the sudden normalcy of two friends long reunited temporarily eclipsed any other fears. That is until he clasped Future trunks hand and stepped over the threshold into the apartment. Leaning around Gohan, Future Trunks then closed the door and latched it securely.


	10. Facing Trunks

**Time's Lessons Learned, Chapter #09**

**By ****Trynia Merin**

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This story is based on the doujinshi Our Time by Manya and Minea. Thanks to Lord Truhan for help and encouragement of this story. I make no money writing this story._

* * *

Again, frozen stiff Gohan's dark eyes were the only body part that moved rapidly surveying the apartment's contents. He could recognize the bland colors of a furnished apartment, with few personal touches. Paintings with abstract themes overlooked a high ceiling, while he stood on a polished parcade floor looking towards a sliding door and a huge picture window overlooking the city. Through vertical strips of a set of blinds, he peered at the orange and red sunset drenched sky fading to maroon. Dying rays of the sun cast the large overstuffed leather sofa and armchair in brilliant gold.

"Gohan, are you all right?" Future Trunks interrupted, his silhouette eclipsing the panoramic view of Satan City. Only the bright blue gleam of his eyes offered Gohan any sense of grounding, aided only by the pressure of his firm hands on Gohan's shoulders.

"I… I guess so. I think I need to sit down," Gohan breathed, inhaling a burst of Trunks scent. Musk and potent it crossed his nostrils and burned its way into his memory as nothing else did at that moment. He was very aware of the sound of his own blood rushing through his ears, and the tingling of Trunks ki aura, smelling of a gust of pure wind after a storm.

"You kept the jacket," Future Trunks answered, rubbing Gohan's shoulders lightly. Eye to eye they stood, and Gohan was well aware of the difference from looking up at him ages ago. He could barely speak he felt so overcome with the need to simply stand there and absorb the reality of the moment.

"And the scarf," Gohan answered, reaching a numb hand up to slide a finger along the piece of silk draped around Trunks neck. His finger caught on the embroidered Gyu-mao sigil festooning it, wondering if it would be like the texture of the lavender hair slightly falling into those azure eyes.

"Why don't you sit down? Anything I can get you to drink?" Future Trunks asked, sliding around an awestruck Gohan to let his hand rest on his waist. Another jolt of odd tingling settled on Gohan and he didn't know if he dared move from where he stood. Something held him prisoner, and he couldn't bring himself to move.

"I… um… water would be good…" he said.

"C'mon, you don't have to worry. I have plenty of soda stocked in the fridge. Unless you were expecting wine."

"I don't drink," Gohan answered awkwardly.

"Gohan, relax. I'm not going to bite," Future Trunks rubbed his back gently. "You can at least sit down and act like you're glad to see me again."

"I'm sorry," Gohan apologized.

"Don't apologize. Just sit down and breath will you," the other demi urged him, his face lined with worry at how frightened Gohan seemed. Although Future Trunks seemed very calm and collected, Gohan could sense a wave of nervous energy buzzing between them that spoke the contrary.

"He's as scared as I am," Gohan suddenly realized. The hand on his back trembled, and then pushed him towards the sofa. Inhaling deeply Gohan let himself be led over to sit down. Automatically he reached up to take off the jacket.

"No, you can keep it on if you want to. I'll be right back," Future Trunks said, his voice receding into a small echo as he entered the kitchen. Only a half wall separated it from the sitting room area. To the left a short hallway led to what must be the rest of the apartment. Thoughts of what the bedroom and bathroom must look like brought another hot flush to his face, and he cursed himself for seeming so juvenile in front of his friend.

His friend, or soon to be something else, Gohan mentally added, sitting down on the sofa. He let his bag drop to the floor, and then leaned back to close his eyes. His head made a small thump as he let it hit the wall, and then repeated it.

"Dammit Gohan, relax," he thought annoyed. "You're acting like you did around Videl. But this isn't Videl, this is Trunks."

"Here you go. I put it over ice, in a glass. You always liked it better than from the can," Future Trunks interrupted, drawing him out of his self-reproach. Opening his eyes he saw Future Trunks leaning over with a glass of soda in either hand, one extended towards him. He sat down next to Gohan, the sofa shifting as he lowered himself.

"Thank you," Gohan said, taking the glass, and feeling the moisture slick against his already sweaty hand. He gratefully hid his face behind it, taking a huge swig to quell his parched throat.

"It's been forever, Gohan," Future Trunks said warmly, leaning back and crossing his legs. He sampled his own drink, and then waited patiently. Those azure eyes never left his, their expression somewhere between nervous anticipation and concern. Real and genuine worry for his well-being, Gohan realized with a warm glow inside. Suddenly he felt as if part of him had turned to mush, and his throat welcomed another drought of soda tickling past it.

"I was just wondering… why…" Gohan asked, and then squeezed his eyes shut in self-reproach. "Sorry that's not how I meant it. I just…"

"I'm the one who should apologize pulling a stunt like that, but the look on your face was worth it," Future Trunks smiled with a bit of mischief. For a second Gohan saw the resemblance between him and his younger counterpart, and it spooked him.

"You might have warned me," Gohan said with some reproach. "All this time, and you shocked the daylights out of me in class… do you have any idea how that feels?"

"I'm sorry Gohan, I really am. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," Future Trunks apologized, his face melting into a worried expression. "I was following Mom's plan about helping take the attention off of you, that I got carried away."

"Well," Gohan said, trying to repress the sudden urge to chuckle. "It did work… they paid more attention to you than me."

Relief filled Future Trunks worried face, and his eyes widened to a more relaxed width. "I'm glad. I still couldn't help myself. I mean it took a while to figure out HOW to say hello after so long. I mean… it has been ages… and well…"

"You didn't know what to say anymore than I did," Gohan nodded, sighing with relief as well. Tension dropped a notch, and the two of them shared another sip and a look at one another over their crystal glasses.

"Well, would you believe I've been thinking for years about just what I'd say to you when we saw each other again?" Future Trunks asked. Gohan felt tension in his thighs, especially when Future Trunks drained his glass, and then rose from the sofa. By now, the last rays of the sun had faded, leaving only the varied bands of deep red and yellow panting the sunset over Satan City. In front of them, the black cutouts of the buildings gleamed alive with tiny lights from each window.

"You must have had a busy time fighting the androids… how is everything?" Gohan asked.

"A whole new world," Future Trunks related, slowly orbiting the sitting room. His reflection was slightly blurred in the top of the polished coffee table he set his emptied glass upon.

"You'd mentioned about helping rebuild it the last time we saw each other."

"It's incredible. Still there's a lot of work to be done. But there's not many enemies to fight unless you include the changing of the seasons and rebuilding a financial system from the ground up," Future Trunks confessed. He leaned his forearm against the glass of the picture window, peering out at the mess of trees obscuring the few blocks over. Then he turned, and rested his shoulder against it so he could partly glance at Gohan.

"The challenges of modern society," Gohan commented.

"The people's souls are healing. Wounds that you can't see as well as those you can. The whole world's slowly getting back on its feet. It's like someone who's been close to death recovering vitality," Future Trunks murmured, his profile lit by the twinkling city lights outside. He had not bothered to turn on the lamp in the room, so Gohan leaned over to switch the one by the sofa on.

"Is there something that you're not telling me, Trunks," Gohan asked. A small chuckle answered him.

"Always were thinking ahead of me one step, Gohan. Even in sparring or life outside it," Future Trunks answered, turning his head to stare at Gohan. Slowly the dark haired demi approached, seeing the slump of Future Trunk's shoulders. For a moment he seemed lost and sad, a refuge who had been adrift on a temporal ocean.

"The time in between your visits kept getting longer. Until you didn't come back. It's been four years, Trunks. Is it something to do with the number of timelines you create? How much energy did it take to get you back here this time?"

"Mom's done the math. I'm sure you must have seen the equations yourself, Gohan," Future Trunks murmured, glancing away. He rested the flats of his palms against the glass, peering over the city that had so much life after so much death.

"It's just that from that look on your face, you look like you've lost something precious," Gohan dared to say. Daring to close the gap, Gohan reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, and then stopped to let it drop by his side.

"Gohan, I can't go back to the past anymore," Future Trunks answered, still with his back facing Gohan.

"You… then my hypothesis was right," Gohan answered.

"Spoken like a true scientist, Gohan," Future Trunks sadly chuckled, turning slightly around. Something moist glistened in his eyes, kicking the tension back up to its previous level and beyond. At that moment Gohan cursed his intelligence, wishing the great leaps in his intuition hadn't foreseen such a possibility. IT was the answer to the unspoken question of why it had taken four years for this visit now.

"Trunks… is there anything I… can do?" Gohan asked, voice quaking. He could feel the misery rolling off the other demi in great waves. Whatever emotions Future Trunks had shuttered away now were free to roam in the apartment. How long had he held back from admitting such things the other times he had visited?

This question prompted Future Trunks to spin completely around. Two sets of eyes met, holding one another captive. What could Gohan say or do to something like this. With all his genius, he had no solution to the conundrum that presented itself. What price had Future Trunks paid to return here, and from the looks of all could he return?

"There is one thing, Gohan. You could… come back with me?" suggested the lavender haired demi. Gohan's heart throbbed fit to burst, mind spinning suddenly a million miles a second.

"But… but… my family… my friends here… I couldn't leave them!" Gohan stammered, voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry that I can't… please understand, Trunks."

Such a demand seemed so selfish and yet so heartfelt of a plea he wondered if he could refuse his friend anything. It seemed so unfair that the one chance he had to make Trunks happy meant sacrificing his own life. Yet he was ready with all his heart to say yes, if not for those that needed him now.

The serious line of Trunks sternness broke into mirth, and he laughed, "I'm sorry, I was joking Gohan. I didn't mean it so seriously."

Mingled anger and relief filled Gohan, restarting his heart. Once aching and about to break to pieces it now pounded with frustration. Another nasty trick that Trunks had pulled, toying with his emotions like that. Did he seriously know the effect he had on Gohan? Unable to yell, but desperate to voice his discomfort he stammered, "That was downright horrid of you! You just looked so upset that I thought… I had to."

Although Trunks regarded him sternly, Gohan knew it was directed inwards. Now Trunks chest heaved up and down with his own exhalation. He closed the gap between them, resting his hand once more on Gohan's shoulder. By now, the jacket he had worn lay forgotten draped over the couch, for the temperature in the room had grown feverishly torrid. Squeezing his shoulder, Trunks said gratefully, "Gohan… this must be my night to apologize. I just want you to know I really appreciate what you were almost willing to do for me. The fact you wanted to help so much, its part of what makes you someone… I care deeply for."

Gohan's ears burned hotly, his nostrils flaring wide with the rich scent of Future Trunks. All he could see immediately before him was the fall of silky hair lightly falling around that face he could see in his mind whenever he wished. A face that had smiled down from a dark place and made it lighter and easier to bear when all seemed lost. True to the message painted on the capsule, he was hope incarnate. Stepping into Gohan's personal space so only six inches parted them, Future Trunks then rasped, "There is something else that you can do for me now, Gohan."

"What is it, Trunks?" asked Gohan, inclining his head slightly. His own breath pulsed hot, his ki crackling invisibly to sweep over the blue surge reaching for him.

"Something that won't demand so much from you. You always think of others before yourself. But this is something that won't hurt at all," Future Trunks murmured, his eyes half shut as he leaned forwards.

"What is…" Gohan managed to ask before he was sharply jerked forwards. His chest collided with the solid one of the demi across from him. Words were silenced by the movement of lips over his, taking a taste all their own. Before he could fathom what was actually happening his hands of their own volition raised up from his sides to slide up Trunks back. Trembling Gohan brushed his fingers over the locks of Trunks hair, finally probing and determining they were softer than any silk he had touched.

His breath tasted warm and wet, full of tingling azure ki just like his eyes. Of perfect height, that Gohan only had to lean up slightly Future Trunks swept forwards his tongue, sliding across his palate and ghosting into spaces unexplored by anyone except Videl. From head to toe the jolt snapped, arcing like a shock between two wires on a Jacob's ladder. Steadily climbing up sizzling to burst before another rode up the spires to follow.

Reluctantly the kiss ended, just as Gohan finally felt himself responding. Panting the two of them pressed foreheads together, Gohan resting his arms across Trunks strong ones still grasping him tightly. Not looking at him Gohan wrestled for control of his already sprinting metabolism. All he could think to say was, "B… but Trunks… I thought I… you… only did that with girls…"

A quick laugh bubbled up from Future Trunks throat, chastising and relieving at the same time, "Maybe so, but it's had wonders already. You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that Gohan."

"What…" Gohan weakly panted, his hands dropping from Trunks shoulders. Before he could retreat in confusion to ponder and cogitate what he now felt, Future Trunks seized his arms and pulled him back into the circle of them.

"I just want to know Gohan. Hear me out. I just want to know something. Is it possible for you to think of having feelings for me as you do for…?"

"I don't know," Gohan answered, ashamed of his meekness. Almost everything inside him told him he had nothing to fear, except for a small doubting voice that grew in volume. Warning him that it was wrong, and strange. Even though he had entertained the thought of being attracted to men as well as women, the fear of what his mother would say to this had stopped him from seriously entertaining it. He had a girlfriend Videl, or did he?

"Gohan, there's nothing wrong with it if you do. You know what you saw and felt that day, those years ago. What I was ashamed to admit. I only was, because you were so young, and such things weren't proper. But now you're old enough," Trunks panted.

"You… like me, you desire me," Gohan murmured, reluctant to leave Trunks embrace. He felt so comfortable pressed to the other demi Saiyan, that it frightened him.

"Do you feel the same Gohan? If you don't want this, please tell me now, and I'll stop," Trunks promised, cupping Gohan's cheek with his right hand. Softly he ran his thumb over the curve of Gohan's lip, then to his chin. So strong was the press of his hand and so warm that Gohan leaned further into it.

"I… do… like you that way," Gohan admitted, face blushing what must be crimson. "But I don't know what to make of it… I mean I did think I'd be attracted to men but I never met one that… not like I feel now… not like I do when I'm with you… here and now. I can't describe it."

"Gohan, we can move as fast or slow as you want," Future Trunks smiled, eyes bright with happiness. Gohan couldn't believe the beauty of their shine, and that he was responsible for it. He had never seen such a look from Videl. Perhaps the light in her eyes came close, but he felt a surge of guilt that the feelings invoked by her kiss were barely half of what he measured now. Only she could come close, and still he felt as if there was something missing.

"What do I tell Videl… my parents, I mean you're my teacher for crying out loud," Gohan groaned. "Don't be angry Trunks."

"I'm not angry Gohan. I'm so happy, don't you realize?" Trunks laughed, as if intoxicated. He beamed with something that shone from deep inside.

"What do we do? Tomorrow?" asked Gohan quietly.

"Don't worry Gohan. We have time. That is if you want this."

"I want to try," Gohan whispered, as Future Trunks again leaned in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, and then seize the nape of his neck. "But I need time."

"Isn't that what dating is all about, Gohan?" Future Trunks smirked, leaning in for another kiss. Before the cityscape, they held one another close, tasting, and inhaling of one another. Deep droughts he tasted of Trunks until he knew his scent and feel for all time. There would be no more than the first kisses that night, but it was a prelude to something far more then he could anticipate. Alternatively, something that was destined to forever alter the lives of those around them.


	11. Morning After Repercussions

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This story is based on the doujinshi Our Time by Manya and Minea. Thanks to Lord Truhania at Boxer and Rice for help and encouragement of this story.

**Time's Lessons Learned**

Pillow Time

Summary: Can Future Trunks and Gohan continue to the next level now that they've admitted their feelings to one another. What happens the next day?

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The pillow smelled of Future Trunks. Blue lightening sizzling through the wind and leaving a tang of ozone. His entire body weighed down with sleep, he struggled to push up against a mattress that wanted to devour him. A slight wave swirled under him, and he half wondered if he was floating in a sea face down. Rationality turned slowly on like a flickering neon sign that had not yet completely lit but was getting there.

Shakily he shoved down, and dragged himself up out of the covers. They slid down his bare back to his waist. From the full body contact of himself to the under sheet he suddenly shivered. A tremendous ache surged up from the base of his spine, and he felt a strange stickiness associated with evaporated sweat. All around him he smelled Future Trunks, and it staggered him. Or was it the bright crisp white of the walls and white on white textured painting he stared up at. Scrubbing at his eyes with one hand he held himself up with the other.

"Wow," he muttered, sliding that hand up to tunnel through his own hair, remarkably in disarray. A quick turn of the head to one side saw that the sheets were all but tugged up out of one side of a huge king sized waterbed. Little wonder he had felt such resistance to getting up.

Concerned eyes narrowed to focus on the blurry numbers of the bedside clock. He almost panicked, then exhaled a long sigh of relief when they in fact read six AM. If he was where he recalled properly, then he was only a less then fifteen-minute flight by traditional car, and a five-minute flight by levitation from Orange Star High.

"Oh man, I forgot to call home," Gohan groaned, then felt a spasm of ache spread from his backside like a wave of fire. A quick shove down and he flopped over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling's textured swirls of paint. Inside he felt a gaping hole that had nothing to do with feeling, but everything to do with another physical need. The audible rumble embarrassed him, for he realized he was weak from lack of food.

Sensitive demi Saiyan hearing picked up the sounds of a television turned on, and the remote sound of sizzling. A glooping swish of something being poured into something else followed it. Smells of strawberry, cantaloupe, and toast mingled with the tang of freshly brewed coffee. Along with it was that same aroma of fresh stone lightening that wafted up from the sheets. Future Trunks own scent. Smells and sounds grew closer, along with the third confirmation of ki searching like a beacon. The bright blue spark crackled just in the hallway, and Gohan struggled to a sitting position. He shoved a few pillows behind his neck to prop himself up and let the sheets fall to his waist.

"Don't get up, Gohan," Future Trunks scolded, from behind high stacks of fruit salad, toast, and pancakes. He boosted the massive tray, the size of a restaurant waiter's onto one shoulder, then strode gracefully in. A deep blue silk robe was loosely belted at the waist, and Gohan felt himself salivate. Not only for the food, but the preparer of it.

"I'm starved... but you didn't have to..." he began.

"Gohan, shut up and help me eat this," Future Trunks teased, setting the tray at the foot of the bed. He swung himself to sit down next to Gohan, then grabbed a huge mixing bowl filled with melon and blueberry, pushing it into Gohan's lap. Eagerly Gohan eyed it, but hesitated.

"Well, don't be polite. you're half starving and I'm going to think that you're not ravenous like I am. We can't have you passing out in my class," Future Trunks whispered into his ear, shivering him over every inch of skin.

"I forgot to call home," Gohan groaned.

"Don't worry. I left a message on the machine."

You what?" Gohan blinked, shivering again.

"Relax Gohan. By now your mom knows I'm teaching at Orange Star high. Why are you so..."

"Sorry you know how my mom is," groaned Gohan.

"Well Chichi did speak to me on the phone early this morning. I let her know you spent the night..." said Future Trunks.

"Are you crazy?" Gohan stammered, shivering from head to toe. Trunks shoved a piece of strawberry into his mouth.

"What's to worry. She was very thankful of my thoughtfulness. I told her that I'd make sure you got to school on time," Future Trunks smiled, leaning over to kiss Gohan's flaming red cheek.

"B... b... but..." Gohan stammered swallowing the lump of sweet fruit. He buried his nervousness in the mouthfuls he shoveled in despite his pounding heart.

"Gohan, relax. She doesn't suspect anything. Besides, we can break the news to them however you choose. I haven't waited five years for you only to lose you because of your mother's hard headedness," Future Trunks said, pulling him close for another kiss.

"But I... I have to tell... Videl..." murmured Gohan, swooning from the brief but passionate thrust of Trunks tongue across his palate sharing the taste of the fruit.

"I think that's wise. But like I said, it's up to you. I know why you're worried. It wouldn't do for people to suspect something was going on with a teacher and his student. So we'll have to be sneaky," said Future Trunks with a smirk.

"I don't want to lose you either, Trunks," murmured Gohan, loving the feel of Trunks fingers ruffling and scratching his spiky short hair which was standing more upright then usual at strange angles.

By now they were both digging into the stacks of waffles dusted with cinnamon and sugar, drizzled in natural honey. High protein bacon and copious amounts of a cheese and scallion omelet followed. Gohan picked up a pitcher filled with orange juice and chugged it eagerly down while Future Trunks poured two cups of coffee.

"I'd better hit the shower first," Future Trunks muttered, glancing at the clock.

"Right, you want me to um... join you?" Gohan said quietly.

"I'd love that, but if you're in there I never want to come out!" Future Trunks teased, nipping the end of his nose. He then blew him a kiss and grabbed a clean towel from the chest at the end of the bed. Gohan sighed and hugged himself tightly, loving the warmth that spread over him. He felt a low rumbling in his throat that initiated a body wide blush over his entire skin, and wondered if he was glowing from head to toe since he felt that warmth permeated every cell of his body.

He never had felt so safe, so loved. So complete. Rubbing his hands over his biceps he could imagine they were Future Trunks hands roaming his body. Inhaling the cloud of his musk that hung in the air he tumbled into the memories of just a few hours before.

Cupping hands around Gohan's face Future Trunks tugged him forwards. Gohan needed no coaxing to loop his arms around Future Trunks strong neck. He eagerly opened his lips to receive the solid strong lip press that sealed off his breath. Bodies equally tightly slammed against each other, their kiss endless.

Gohan felt strong fingers kneading down his backbone to rest on his backside. He yelped at the strong pinch that arched him into Future Trunks, then felt another hand sliding under his thigh. Ticklish he lifted his leg, then felt the slide of the hand along its underside to pull that appendage around strong hips. Gohan didn't question the motive, he simply feasted on the taste of Trunks lips working over his. Welcoming the slide of long fingers to play with his spikes of hair, and scratch over his scalp. He wished he could tear the clothes off that confined them both. Drawing in great gasping breaths of oxygen when their lips parted, and he blinked into those deep navy pools.

"Gohan..." Future Trunks rasped, almost a low growl in his throat.

"I can't stop..." Gohan rasped back, sliding his hands along Trunks back, and under the sweatshirt that he tugged up. Stepping back Future Trunks slid his fingers between Gohan's waistband and the tucked shirt, jerking it up along with the vest. Forced to cross his arms, Gohan lifted his hands above his head and let Trunks reach and unbutton the shirt before peeling it off.

"I was going to ask how much you wanted to keep it, but I figure it's pretty expensive," whispered Future Trunks.

"Uh huh," Gohan breathed, unable to form coherent words. He felt Trunks hands sliding down the hard smooth muscles of his chest. Arching his neck he slid his fingers into the silky mop of Trunks hair, groaning.

"Gohan..." whispered Future Trunks, pressing kisses from one side to the other, then down the meridian of his chest and belly. Stopping before the waist, he placed his hands on the leather belt, and glanced up at him.

Almost whining at the loss of the hot kisses, Gohan blinked down at the lavender haired demi reclining on one knee before him. He played with the fringe of silk, pulling it up and tugging hard on it. "Why... why'd you stop?"

"Do you want me to continue? I'll stop if you want me to, Gohan. I don't want to push you into anything more then you want," Future Trunks glanced up at him.

"I... I want more," Gohan rasped, his throat rumbling. Insistent tugs on Trunks hair urged him upwards, and he then took Gohan's hands and placed them on his shirt.

"Your turn, no sense in me doing all the fun," Future Trunks breathed. Gohan realized he didn't have to take a passive role here. Future Trunks wouldn't break like Videl under his hands. Grasping folds of Trunks shirt he tugged, and then the garment shredded easily.

"Sorry..." Gohan gasped, dropping the pieces of cloth

"Don't be Gohan. You can be yourself around me. Don't hold back," said Future Trunks, grasping his hands and returning them to his chest. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Gohan reverently massaged the flat planes of Trunks chest. He leaned down, kissing along the collarbone, then rubbing his hands in widening circles over the pectorals.

"Gohan... please... I've waited so long," Future Trunks moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his hands drop to his sides.

Softly Gohan nipped folds of bronze skin, then felt the urge to drag his tongue over the smoothness. It felt so amazing, that lack of friction and the tang of salty sweat that met his taste buds. Snorting suddenly, Gohan then slid his hands around Trunks ribs to his back, and glided up once more. Brining his chest so it was flat against his own, he placed his palms onto the shoulder blades of Trunks back, and devoured his lips in his hungry kiss. This time Gohan became the aggressor, probing, tasting, and inhaling all things Trunks. Fingers threaded through one another's hair, almost pulling it out by the roots, but squirming to get even closer then skin would allow.

Something crackled over his skin like electricity. Gohan released Trunks lips, and felt a surge of ki emitted from his partner's mouth. Blue energy washed over him like a wave, and Gohan released his own wave, matching it. Two energies, white, and blue mingled into a bright turquoise that lit up the room like noon.

"Won't someone notice?" whispered Gohan, sliding his hands under Trunks pants, and feeling the hardness of his backside.

"They mind their own business. We might be more comfortable elsewhere," Future Trunks answered, parting from Gohan. He strode towards the hallway, then turned extending his hand toward his lover.

"Come with me," he whispered. Gohan grasped his palm, seeing the sparkle of ki lighting up Trunks eyes and his hair frizzed a bit from static electricity. Gohan only nodded, placing his full trust and his heart into his gaze back. He smiled and nodded, his dark eyes saying all that words couldn't.

Leading him by the hand, Future Trunks then turned the knob on the door to his left. It flew open, revealing a ghostly white interior that shimmered like pearls in the light of his aura, but with a blue tinge. Waves of energy shimmered their light, casting a variegated pattern that resembled being underwater. When Gohan stepped inside after him, the blue water fluctuations were eclipsed by his own white radiance.

Opposite a large dresser stretched a king sized bed. A quilted duvet spread overtop, topped with fluffy white pillows. At least Gohan guessed they were white, but had the blue tinge of Trunks ki. Unlike what some would assume, the ki had no heat, but light, and there was no danger of exploding anything into spontaneous combustion. Rather the charged energy waves caused the air itself to sizzle.

Trunks hand snared his waist, dragging him forwards. Another hard kiss plunged its tongue deep into Gohan's mouth, and he spun around till he felt the collision of a frame against his knees. Leaning into him hard, Future Trunks lowered him to the bed so he lay atop Gohan's slumped body.

All he could hear were the cry of his name on Trunks lips and the sound of his own ragged scream mingling with it. Gohan panted hard, a long sigh escaping his mouth as he lay limply against his lover's body. Still intertwined they collapsed into exhaustion. Gohan lifted his head first to give Future Trunks a brush of the lips, then a swipe of his tongue, transferring his hot panting air into the other's mouth. Slowly Future Trunks drank in the smooch, his arms wrapping tightly around Gohan to keep him there. As he shifted Gohan whispered, "Please... don't move, you feel so good,"

"I am not going anywhere, love," Future Trunks whispered.

"I don't have the strength to move," Gohan laughed, and buried his face in his lover's shoulder.

"Do you want to stay?" Future Trunks asked, kissing his forehead.

"Yes..." Gohan answered. "I don't want to leave you."

"Damn," Gohan swore. He forced himself to control as he ate the remainder of the foot. Neatly he stacked the dishes before hauling himself out of bed and piling them on the tray. He couldn't stop the need to order things and clean up after himself. So when Future Trunks returned to see his partner making the bed Gohan felt a stinging slap on his backside.

"Knock it off Gohan and get in the shower. I left it running just for you," he whispered.

"Sorry," Gohan said as he rushed into the bathroom across the hall. He leapt into the shower, pushing aside the glass sliding door and letting the hot water slam against him. Future Trunks enjoyed the sight of his lover's bare ass as he exited the bedroom.

"Gohan you need to loosen up a bit more," Future Trunks shook his head, and then smiled in self satisfaction. Gathering up the breakfast tray he took it out to the kitchen. After he loaded the dishwasher he returned to the bedroom to select his clothes from the closet. In addition he placed a pair of corduroy pants with a button up shirt and sweatshirt neatly folded on the foot of the bed for Gohan. Then he gathered up their discarded clothes and placed them into the laundry basket for later.

Ever since he had shown up that morning, he and Trunks had tiptoed about, trying not to arouse suspicion. Together they had ridden the elevator down to the fancy lobby, Trunks wearing a herringbone jacket and tan dress slacks while Gohan wore the borrowed outfit. Glancing at himself in the reflection of the mirrored elevator car, they made an unlikely but pleasant pair.

"I think these are more in style' then my usual clothes," Gohan joked.

"You look great, Mr. Son," Future Trunks joked, leaning over to lightly caress his ear with a kiss. Gohan turned his head quickly and caught his lover's lips. Dropping the briefcase, Future trunks wound his arms around Gohan to deepen it.

Only the ding of the bell and the rolling open of the doors interrupted them. Both arms dropped and they reached down to pick up their items and dash out the elevator doors before they slid shut once more. Still their hands clasped between them as they walked past the concierge to the front door of the building. A cheerful smile beamed their way from the door attendant as he said, "Good morning Mr. Briefs! Hope things go well today!"

"Same here," Trunks waved, still holding Gohan's hand in his. The door attendant touched his cap to Gohan, and they crossed around to the parking garage.

"Are you sure I should ride there with you," Gohan remembered asking.

"Don't worry. If you like I'll let you out right there," Trunks said.

"All the same I think I'll just fly there myself," Gohan suggested.

"All right. However, I'll be missing you. You'd better show up in time for class," Trunks chuckled, leaning in for a quick goodbye kiss. Then backing apart, the two lovers turned their separate ways. Gohan rocketed up and away towards the school, hoping not to be seen. A quick transformation to Great Saiyaman and he felt more comfortable zooming over the slowly rousing city.

* * *

People sped by in their cars below, and he touched down behind a bush so he could quickly transform. Then he blended in seamlessly with the group of students milling into the building. Some yawned while others rubbed the dust from their eyes, and carried cups of coffee.

"Gohan, there you are," someone said, making him jump.

"Oh hi," he said, noticing Erasa and Videl standing right inside the door.

"You rushed off pretty quickly last night. Everything okay?" Videl asked.

"Oh no problems. I um… the teacher wanted to hire me as a tutor," Gohan hastily explained, a blush crossing his face.

"Lucky guy," Erasa sighed dramatically.

"Oh shut up," Videl elbowed her, and Erasa grabbed her arm.

"Well I guess we'd better head to class, right ladies?" Gohan suggested, wondering if he had missed something.

"Yeah, better head to class all right…" Videl said, then stepped a bit apart from Erasa when her blue eyes widened. Past them milled Sharpener in the midst of a group of jocks.

"So you got home late didn't you?" Sharpener rested his hand on his hip.

"Ah…" Gohan stammered, feeling his neck flush red.

"No, no problems, not that it's any of your business," Videl stammered, blushing hotly.

"Seems people were rather busy last night, weren't they?" Sharpener sneered.

"Sharpener what the hell is your problem?" Videl snapped.

"I wouldn't know. Some of us don't have secrets to hide like others," Sharpener glared towards Gohan.

"Sharpener, back off," Gohan glared at him.

"Ohh a bit touchy are we, Bookworm," Sharpener snorted. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat but I've got warm-ups…"

"Jerk," Erasa snorted. Sharpener laughed and wandered off with his cluster of male cohorts. Videl fumed, glaring daggers at him as he wandered away. Still Gohan wondered if Sharpener had suspected anything, or if Videl was wise to the changes in their situation.

"Um Videl, I need to meet you after school. There's something I need to talk about," Gohan said quietly.

"What for?" Videl said defensively.

"Well, the after school tutoring session that Mr. Briefs asked me to run," Gohan fumbled for an answer. "You and Erasa are in the group I was supposed to help."

"Oh yeah, of course," Erasa said, leaning on Videl's shoulder.

"I guess, but I had plans, and well…"

"Right. It will only take a half hour. And there's something else I need to talk to you afterwards, Videl," said Gohan.

"Um, actually that's a coincidence because I've got something to chat to you about, Gohan," Videl said quietly, looking off to the side a bit.

"Right, then its coffee and study, right?" Erasa laughed, nudging between them and linking arms with both Gohan and Videl. "Better not be late to class! Or sharpener will get eth best seat!"

"Right," Videl and Gohan nodded, letting their friend walk them to class. Gohan felt the tension radiating off Videl in waves, his mind spinning with the strangeness of her behavior. It was as if she was trying to avoid him, and he wondered if she already knew.

* * *

The day had dragged by achingly slowly, and each minute in Physics was torture. To watch his lover up in front without being able to touch him was physically painful. Gohan had to rest a heavy book on his lap to keep from showing the evidence of his arousal. Wearing that suit, Future Trunks cut such a handsome figure that Gohan couldn't keep his eyes off the teacher's front or back.

If he glanced sidelong, he could see Erasa and Videl leaning towards each other. Videl was sipping a cup of hot chocolate and Erasa absently reached over and grabbed the same cup to take a draught as well. Together they shared the hot beverage, glancing sideways at one another. Was it is his imagination or did someone pass him a note.

"This is for you," said Erasa quietly.

"Passing notes are we?" asked Mr. Briefs, slapping his yardstick down on the table.

"Um… no… I mean…" Erasa gasped dropping the slip of paper.

"Ah," Mr. Briefs glanced down, stepping on the piece of paper with a highly polished shoe. Leaning down he picked it up and unfolded it.

"I'm sure that we wouldn't mind if you shared it with the rest of the class," Mr. Briefs teasingly said, his glance towards Gohan only a split second. Gohan felt the heat in that gaze, full of pent up desire and shivered. He squirmed in his chair, feeling how tough it was on his tender backside.

"It's nothing, honestly!" Erasa squeaked.

"Just a joke," Videl chimed in.

"Meet me after class, must talk to you about something urgently… Gohan…" mumbled Future Trunks. "What's all this?"

"Um, it's for the after study session!" Gohan blurted out.

"Right that's it!" Videl chimed in. "I wanted to remind my new tutor here that we were eager to get cracking open the books!"

"Well I'm glad to see you're so enthused, Miss Satan. Now let's jump ahead a bit to the end of chapter 1 and start chapter 2?" smirked Mr. Briefs, his eyes twinkling in amusement at Gohan. Erasa let out a huge sigh of relief then rested her chin on her folded hands while the teacher spun around. Videl swallowed hard, looking annoyed at the eyes trained on her. She mouthed a thank you to Gohan who nodded with a wink.

* * *

That's what brought Gohan here; waiting in the shade of a borrowed umbrella, dripping wet and soaked to the skin under his blue capsule jacket. Cars pulled up and people huddled under improvised rain shelters and a spectrum of umbrellas. Sharing a large umbrella with pictures of kittens on it, he recognized the gait of two women with arms linked, giggling as they stumbled through the puddles. Erasa and Videl were squeezed together, hip to hip as they struggled to share the shade of their umbrella. Both their hands were clasped around the shaft.

Seeing Gohan, they dashed between cars towards him. He grabbed the handle of the front door and opened it for them politely. Nodding their thanks, they stopped under the awning to swing their umbrella down. Erasa shook the water off it while Videl rubbed her arms and readjusted her soaked coat. Then they all bustled into the warmth and dryness of the café.

"This way ladies, glad you could make it," Gohan led the way towards a nearby table. Other patrons either stood in line before the glass cases filled with various tasty treats. Some wandered past the coffee bar while others already sat down with their trays of sandwiches and cakes.

"There's a table," Erasa pointed out. Videl smiled and rushed over to grab the chair and toss her jacket over it. Erasa and Gohan soon joined her, Gohan choosing the chair across from Videl while Erasa moved to set her books by Videl's chair. They had selected a table right by the window still, where they could watch the rain pattering on the streets while people strolled by or rushed in their efforts to stay dry or enjoy the precipitation.

"All right. We can all get coffee and something to eat, and then get cracking," Gohan rubbed his hands together.

"What do you want Gohan? I'll get something for all of us," Videl offered.

"Oh no, I'll get it!" Erasa insisted.

"No you won't. You'll sit down and let me bring you something, girl," Videl nudged her by her hip. "Gohan?"

"I can…" he began, rising from his chair. "Why don't you save the places Erasa…?"

"If you insist!" she waved to them. Both Gohan and Videl moved up to the line behind the brass bars. Not quite able to make eye contact, they both took plastic brown trays and set them on the triple bars that others slid their purchases along. Videl grabbed a large fruit salad, wrapped in plastic, and a piece of chocolate cake drizzled in thick icing. Gohan piled a few plates laden with various sandwiches on his tray, along with a half dozen cookies.

"What did you want to see me about, Gohan?" she asked quietly.

"Well I was going to ask to meet you alone but I didn't want people to get the wrong idea," Gohan said.

"Thank you," Videl whispered. "For not kicking Erasa out. "

"I just need to tell you something. It's pretty important, but it can wait till after the study session," Gohan sighed.

"Well Gohan, I… well I had hoped to say something myself. But it's going to come out sooner or later," Videl said as he reached for a piece of coconut pie and set it on his tray. The line moved along, just shy of the coffee ordering counter.

"What's wrong Videl?" Gohan asked quietly, feeling the tension in her voice.

"I… well Gohan…"

"What will it be miss Satan?" asked the clerk politely.

"Um, a hot cappuccino, a cup of cocoa with whipped cream…" Videl said, flustered with the interruption.

"And you Mr. Son? The usual?"

"Yes please just plain coffee with cream and double sweet," Gohan said. "Thank you!"

"It will be right up, just step to the side, and we'll call your number," chirped the young woman, who had long red hair tied up in a bun under her net.

"Thank you," Gohan smiled politely.

"But anyway, Gohan… I don't know how to break this to you…" Videl sighed, picking up her tray and almost dropping it. Gohan rescued it, and balanced it in his hand while carrying his in the other. Why wasn't she looking him right in the eye?

"Go ahead Videl. You can tell me anything," Gohan said softly, standing close.

"Gohan, you're a very nice guy… and a very good friend… and we've shared a lot," Videl began, and then sighed. "Damn, this is so hard to say…. And I don't want to upset you."

"Videl, don't worry. Please just say what you need to. It's obvious you're preoccupied, so just come right out with it. I won't get mad," said Gohan reassuringly. "Besides, I have to tell you something too… and I'm not sure how you'll take it."

"I mean I care about you a lot but… you and me… it just…"

"Videl, it's all right, I understand…" Gohan blurted out. "I know it's not working well between us and I…"

"No, you don't… I don't' want to hurt you…" Videl protested, covering his words with her own.

"I know, and I don't' want to hurt you either, so I also need to tell you something too…" Gohan continued.

"You don't understand Gohan… I can't see you anymore…"

"You do?" Gohan flinched. "You mean you already know?"

"Know what?" Videl blinked at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

"You know I'm seeing someone else?" Gohan laughed awkwardly.

"You are… I mean you are…" Videl gasped. "You're serious?"

"Yes… wait Videl, you were saying…"

"This is crazy… here I was about to tell you that we needed to see other people and you're already with someone else?" Videl blinked.

"Don't be mad Videl… it all happened so fast and it…" Gohan stammered, seeing the narrowing of those blue eyes.

"Number 12!" shouted the beverage clerk.

"That's your order," Gohan meekly replied.

"Thirteen, your order's ready!" shouted the clerk again. Gohan turned to grab his coffee but Videl grabbed him instead.

"But… this is amazing," Videl managed to say, her voice breaking. "I didn't think that it would happen this way…"

"Videl… I'm sorry."

"No, don't be Gohan. Don't you see this is all right… because I was all worried about admitting to you that I was seeing someone else I thought you'd be heartbroken and to hear you're already with someone else…?" Videl half laughed in disbelief.

"12 and 13! Please get your beverages!" the cheerful but insistent voice cut in.

"Oh, let me," Videl offered, rushing past Gohan to get their drinks. She returned balancing hers and Erasa's on top of one another, and Gohan's in her opposite hand. They turned to one another and juggled drinks to set them on trays before returning to their seat.

"I'm famished!" Erasa commented, when Videl set the dray between them.

"One hot cappuccino and a hot chocolate," Videl offered. "A fruit salad and a chicken Cesar… and chocolate cake!"

"Mmm, and a straw?" Erasa asked.

"Right here," Videl passed it to her, and she leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"Thank you so much sweetie," Erasa smiled, then leaned back when Gohan set his tray down.

"It's all right, I know," Gohan held up a hand, with a smile of his own gracing that handsome face.

"You do?" Erasa blinked up at him. She squeezed Videl's hand, sitting on the table.

"I'm happy for you both. Really I am," Gohan beamed. "I hope things go well for you…"

"It's all right," Videl whispered in her ear. Erasa blushed, and then Gohan coughed discretely.

"Well, shall we get started? I believe we've got a whole chapter to cover, and one of you is rather math phobic?"

"Well, I'm okay with precalc," Erasa nibbled on her straw as she sipped her cocoa. "But Videl here…"

"So I'm lousy at algebra, so sue me," Videl poked Erasa in the ribs teasingly.

"Ladies, let's dive in feet first?" Gohan smiled, feeling relief settle over him like a familiar blanket. Seeing the two women share food off one another's trays made him melt inside. Yet he wished Trunks were there sitting in the empty chair by his side. Books were opened and set in the empty space, while Gohan whipped out a pad of paper and took the pencil from his bag to start scribbling equations.

He held a chicken sandwich in one hand and tucked the pencil behind his ears after scratching his temple with it. Mumbling he grabbed his glasses from the case in his bag and slipped them on.

"I just don't' get why there are four quantum numbers," Videl glared at the problems.

"But it's like an address, see?" Gohan pointed to the K, L, and M numbers.

"But plus and minus?"

"Up or down," Erasa brightly giggled. "Plus or minus. It's right there honey…"

She reached over Videl's wrist to point to the diagram in the book they had spread between them. Crumbs feel from the sandwich and she brushed them aside. Videl blinked then the penny seemed to drop into place when she said, "Oh yeah…"

"Coordinates. Then each of these is a part of the wave function…" Gohan recited, light gleaming off his glasses.

"How are my budding quantum physicists doing?" interrupted a voice. Erasa and Videl glanced up into the cobalt blue eyes of Mr. Briefs. Standing there with his raincoat over one arm clutching the briefcase, he held a tray laden with several sandwiches.

"Mr.… Briefs?" Gohan flinched, and then stared up into Future Trunk's amused face. "We… we're right in the middle of one and…"

"Relax, Mr. Son. Mind if I join you?" he asked, and Gohan and Videl moved books aside while he set his tray down. Chairs creaked and slid while he sat down next to Gohan, and settled into place.

"It's still kind of weird, but cool, these quantum numbers… and all," Erasa commented, licking icing off her upper lip. Mr. Briefs swung a packet of sweetener back and forth between thumb and index finger. He ripped it open.

"Glad to see you're meeting with your new Tutor, Miss Graphite. And Miss Satan, I hope that you're also finding these helpful," Mr. Briefs asked, opening his plastic cup to discharge the packet of sweetener inside. His arm brushed Gohan's and he felt the warm gaze of dark eyes through those glasses at him. Invisible energy crackled between them, and Gohan shyly smiled.

"Nice of you to join us, sir," Gohan softly informed him.

"Glad to be here," Future Trunks nodded, his knee bumping Gohan's under the table. Both couples, one known and the other secret feasted on cake and coffee while the rain pattered against the window. Just what the future held was anyone's guess.


	12. Gohan's Choice

Disclaimer: I don't' own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This is fan fiction, and means no harm to the anime or manga.

**Time's Lessons Learned**

By StarbearerTM

* * *

When Gohan slowly walked into the front door of his home, he heard the clatter of dishes along with pots and pans. Goten leapt up from where he was playing on the floor and tugged his pant leg. "Where did you go big brother?"

"I was doing my new job actually, Goten," Gohan said, patting him on the head.

"You're missing dinner," Goten said, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him into the dining room. Gohan just had enough time to drop his books to one side before a wave of steam hit in him the face. Chichi almost collided with him, a pile of food heaped on a tray held before her face.

"Gohan, glad you could make it! I've made everyone's favorites!" Chichi chirped. Gohan sighed; glad she was in a good mood. This wasn't going to be easy by any means.

While his conversation with Videl had fared much better then he imagined, he knew he had entered the lion's den. Son Chichi bustled about the kitchen. The smell of exotic spices permeated the air. Goten chased a small lizard around the floor while Goku tried to stay out of Chichi's way.

"Yeah Mom," Gohan answered. "I got tied up with spending some time with my study group."

"You see Videl at all?" Chichi asked brightly. Gohan rolled his eyes and Goten blinked up.

"How's big Sissy doing?" Goten piped up.

"Actually she's busy studying," Gohan answered casually.

"Well you can't spend all your time studying. You have to have a little bit of social activity," chichi grinned.

"I've heard it and I don't believe it," Goku muttered as he settled into his chair. He seemed to be tuning out most of the conversation already to Gohan's consternation.

Chichi bustled them into the dining room, where plates were already neatly arranged for dinner. Gohan noticed the extra place setting she customarily set out for Videl. Goten sat down in his chair, reaching for a rice dumpling, only to have Chichi smack his hand with a wooden spoon. "Wait till we're all seated, Goten," she scolded.

Goten pouted, wincing at the sting. However, it didn't hurt him very much. Rather he was simply upset he couldn't get what he immediately wanted. Gohan tugged his chair out and sat down while chichi moved the extra place setting aside. Then she took her place at the foot of the table opposite Goku. After a quick thanks to the ancestors for their meal, chopsticks clicked and rice flew from Goku's end of the table, and Goten's side. However, Gohan glanced down at his food, pushing it around with his chopsticks rather than eating much.

"Are you sick Big Brother? You're not eating anything?" Goten commented, food falling down the front of his shirt. Gohan slowly twirled noodles on his chopsticks while holding the end in place with his spoon. Lifting them to his mouth, he slurped them down without biting the translucent continuous noodle.

"Yeah Gohan, you're usually putting away two bowls by now. Everything okay?" Goku asked him, face muffled b y his own mouthful of rice. Pieces of it landed in his dark spiky hair.

"I had something to eat earlier," Gohan commented, moving his wrist out of the way of Goku spearing a fish with his. Poking it into his mouth, he gulped it whole.

"Well, if you're hanging out with your little friends, that's understandable," Chichi smiled winningly. "I mean you did say Videl was there…"

"Yeah, I saw her," Gohan said casually.

"Well, how is she?" Chichi asked, chopsticks poised on the edge of her bowl.

Gohan sighed, and continued, "Like I said before mom, she's been busy. We've all been having a hard time with this new class because of the subject material."

"Oh yes, the one that Trunks is teaching?" asked Chichi, swallowing her mouthful of rice. "Such a nicely mannered young man! How is he?"

"He's doing pretty well," Gohan said with a smile. "Got half the class scared to death already."

"Sounds like him all right. How's he settling in at Capsule?" Goku asked.

"Well actually he's living in his own place, in Satan City. He's trying to make his own living and his own life right now, since the future's pretty much cleared up," said Gohan. He hoped he didn't have a dreamy look in his eyes at this moment because he could tell that he was spending twice the time talking about Trunks rather than Videl.

"It's been a long time since he's been here, hasn't it?" Chichi said. "I thought he had already gone back to his own home… wherever it was?"

"Well he decided to come back. He rather likes it here, in our time actually," Gohan said. "This is what I wanted to talk about."

"Yes, yes, that's all very nice, but I am just worried about you and Videl," Chichi interrupted, waving her hand dismissively.

"What about Videl?" Gohan breathed deeply, steeling himself for what was to come.

"If you don't work hard at keeping that wonderful girl Gohan, how can you expect her not to slip through y our fingers," Chichi reprimanded him, waving her empty chopsticks at him. "You do know that you're going to graduate any day now, and it's high time you started setting a date…"

"But he's already dating," Goku answered.

"No Goku, I mean a wedding date?" Chichi snorted, shaking her head at Goku's density. Shrugging Goku simply returned to the task of shoveling more food into his mouth.

"Wedding date? Aren't you getting ahead of yourself mom?" asked Gohan, his own chopsticks poised before the bowl of dim sum.

"Gohan, dear, you must have brought up the subject? Haven't you actually talked about well…. You and her?"

"Well, not really," Gohan answered, his stomach squirming. He really had no idea how to talk his way out of this one. Whatever it took, she would learn eventually, so he wondered if he was taking the path of less resistance by just spitting it out.

"Why ever not, Gohan? You've been dating her at least a year now, I think its high time you proposed," Chichi suggested, a hint of steel in your voice.

"Proposed? But Mom, I don't' want to get married," Gohan answered.

"Well I can understand if you're nervous. I mean you can wait until after you've graduated college, but she DOES deserve a nice engagement. I mean now that you're working you could start saving up for a nice little ring," Chichi suggested.

"But I don't…" Gohan started, before Chichi's string cut him off.

"Well perhaps I could find something nice in my mother's jewelry that could do till you get a bit more money," Chichi nattered on.

"Oh Dende help me," Gohan pleaded silently, while Goten and Goku seemed to zone out between fast flying chopsticks clanking on bowls. He really felt like he was on his own, for Goten wasn't interested in grown up talk, and Goku was simply consumed with eating what was put before him. Wasn't this always the case, for he stood alone against his mother's will? Who contradicted the one who controlled the cooking pot?

Not Goku. He would much rather be in Chichi's good graces since she provided food, and a bed. As long as he stayed in her favor, he had everything he needed. Yet if he displeased the mistress of the house, then the door was locked, and he had to sleep either outside or on a hard sofa. Usually when this happened, Goku took off training somewhere, and resorted to eating fresh fish grilled from the stream. Gohan would always associate the smell of fresh fish with his father, or with Goku returning after a huge argument with his parents.

"Gohan, are you even paying attention?" Chichi interrupted, waving a hand before his face. She snapped her fingers.

"Oh um, sorry, you were talking about rings?" Gohan swallowed.

"No Gohan-chan, what do you think about long engagements. If she's your fiancée that should be enough. Unless you would like to get married BEFORE college and then you two could live here with us while you commute to school…" Chichi said wistfully, planning Gohan's entire next four years without even letting him speak or approve.

"Mom, excuse me, but you really ARE getting ahead of yourself. You haven't once asked me what I thought of all this," Gohan interrupted, letting his chopsticks drop into his bowl with a loud clank for emphasis.

Shocked, Chichi abruptly stopped talking. In the silence, Goku and Gohan glanced up from their feeding frenzy with puzzled looks on their faces. It was both comical and ridiculous how similar they appeared at that moment. Once Chichi regained her momentum, she asked, "Excuse me?"

"I said Mom, haven't you even considered that isn't anything what I'd like to do? Because Videl and I have broken up for one thing," Gohan answered.

Chichi's hand pressed to her heart and she let out a loud gasp. Falling back against her chair, the blood rushed out of her cheeks leaving her ghostly pale. Goku blinked up at Gohan, and Goten stared hard. He asked, "What does broken-up mean? "

"It means Videl's found someone else. She's not interested in me," Gohan explained, struggling to find his courage now that Chichi had finally ceased.

"What… are you joking?" Chichi stammered weakly, as if he'd slapped her in the face. "Gohan, you're joking…"

"No Mom. You were so busy talking that you wouldn't let me break the news," Gohan frowned.

"But… but… Gohan… what did you do?" Chichi demanded, straightening up in her chair and glaring angrily at him. "Didn't I tell you that this would happen? You had better call her right now and make up, young man!"

"Why would he do that? He said they weren't dating anymore," Goku said sternly, setting his bowl down. "What's happened since then Gohan? You've changed your mind?"

"I'm trying to find out Goku, please do shut up!" Chichi hissed, waving her hand in front of Goku's face and leaning heavily on her side of the table. "Gohan, you have GOT to patch things up and get her back, for Dende's sake! Before it's too late!"

"She already was seeing someone else Mom. There's no point," Gohan countered, gripping the end of the table. "And it wouldn't do any good anyway because I'm also in love with someone else…"

"Who… what… someone else? You mean you cheated on her?"

"No Chichi, didn't you hear what he said? He said Videl was…"

"That's ridiculous! It can't be!" Chichi slammed her fist on the table, rattling dishes. Goku backed away from the table, like a nervous horse ready to bolt.

"Mom, I said I'm in love with someone else. Aren't you even listening to me?" Gohan demanded, his voice rising in volume. Chichi's eyes started to blur with tears and she brushed them away.

"You… you had better march right out that door NOW, and do whatever it takes to get her back! You're missing the opportunity of a lifetime! Has the world gone insane?" Chichi yelled.

"Chichi please, calm down," Goku tried to sooth her, but she slapped his hand away.

"Mommy, please don't get mad!" Goten began to stammer. However, Chichi's full fury focused on Gohan, leaving him forgotten.

"Goten, maybe you should go to your room and play right now?" Goku asked. Goten slid down from his chair and rushed out of the room, not wanting to be at ground zero for his mother erupting.

"She's scary when she's like this," Goten mumbled.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Chichi screamed at Goku, who flinched and backed away. His chair almost toppled over.

"Mom, it's no good getting like this. Videl and I are no more. It's done. I'm in love with someone else. Or is that too much for you to handle?" Gohan asked, standing up with his hands pressed to the table.

Chichi leaned into his face, her eyes gleaming with desperation, "You… you let a perfectly good woman slip through your fingers, and you expect me to just sit back and let it happen? GOHAN! You can still get her back! You can do a million things! Please Gohan!"

"Mom, please, there's nothing to do," said Gohan again, more firmly. "She's not interested in me. Moreover, I'm not interested in her. I'm not even in LOVE with her!"

"How can you say that Gohan? You two were so perfect, so compatible! You have to be insane not to want to win her back!" Chichi wailed, pressing her hands to her ears. "And it was all going so well! Gohan, please… I'm begging you!"

"You're begging me? Mom, the only reason you want me to be with her is because of her money! You don't love her, you love her inheritance!" Gohan frowned.

"That's a lie!" Chichi shrilled. "She's a perfect addition to this family!"

"I won't marry her just because she's rich! I respect her too much!" Gohan shouted back, his face flushing as red as hers. "That's the WORST reason to marry someone and I can't use her as your meal ticket!"

"How dare you!" Chichi screamed, lunging at him. Her hand flashed towards his face, but Gohan stepped back.

"How dare you speak to me like that? You…" Chichi hollered, advancing on Gohan with fury in her face. A red aura of power seemed to crackle around her.

"Chichi, now don't go overboard…" Goku warned, leaping out of his chair as Gohan backed away. He reached over and grabbed her upraised wrist, ready to strike Gohan across the face.

"Let me go, Goku! Gohan, you had better take that back now! Apologize at once!" Chichi warned.

"Apologize for what? For the truth? Mom, look at yourself! You don't even care about me wanting to be with someone I love?"

"Who… who's the mystery person you say you love more than her? I want to know what… what hussy distracted you from… I bet it's one of those city girls! Dammit Gohan," Chichi continued to rage, only held back from attacking him by Goku's arms grasping her wrists from behind.

"Trunks is NOT a hussy!" Gohan retorted. "Don't you DARE speak about him like that!"

"Trunks?" Goku blinked, mildly surprised. "You mean Trunks is the one you're in love with?"

"What are you talking about?" Chichi continued to rant, trying to break free of Goku's restraining grasp. He was trying not to hurt her but it was making things difficult.

"Yes mom. I'm in love with Trunks Briefs," Gohan announced, feeling a sense of resolve building in him.

"You… you mean to say… you can't be…" his mother stammered, her body leaning back towards Goku's. "Are you serious… but Trunks is… he's… that's just not natural!"

"And marrying someone for their money is?" Gohan laughed harshly. "You never cared about what I wanted, Mother. All you cared about was how good I made you look. You never ONCE gave a damn about what I wanted!"

Like a marionette with strings cut Chichi reeled hard against Goku. "But… but… Gohan… I how can you say that! You're my son! I only wanted the best for you! How can you betray me like this! After all I've done?"

"After all you've done, Mother?" Gohan sneered, disgust filling him. "What have you done, MOTHER? Terrorized me from day one, and if I so much stepped out of line I was reprimanded! You verbally abused me for years if I so much as wanted to PLAY. I was AFRAID of you! Because if I didn't do what you wanted you would make me feel like I was insignificant!"

"G… Gohan…" Chichi stammered, feeling Goku standing behind her. He said nothing but simply held her up from behind.

"You never let me even think I had dreams of my own, Mother. All these years you treated me as if I was putty to be molded into your image of what I should be. I was worthless unless I did everything you said! You called me a MONSTER because of my Saiyan side. You never once accepted who I was. A warrior as well as a scholar!" Gohan continued, his heart pounding as the words poured out of him.

"That's not true…" Chichi shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you! This is the thanks I get. It's all that Piccolo's fault! He's turned you against me!"

"Piccolo only helped me see the truth, Mother," Gohan sighed, his eyes shut for a moment. "If not for him we'd be DEAD now. Did you ever THINK of that?"

"But… that doesn't' matter! Gohan, your education, your LIFE is everything! How can you say such things! That horrible Piccolo has twisted you against me! And now that… that sweet boy is nothing but a delinquent!" his hysterical mother sobbed.

"Mother, you're so wrong. Trunks is everything to me. And I won't have you slandering his name or Piccolo's!"

"Gohan, please," Goku answered, his eyes filled with what appeared to be sadness. "Chichi, he's trying to explain himself."

"Father, don't even try. She doesn't care about what I want. Or about what you want," Gohan threw up his hand and snorted.

"That's wrong Gohan. She loves you… we both do," Goku frowned. Chichi turned in his arms, sobbing into his chest uncontrollably.

"Father… you don't give a damn about me either. Where were you when we needed you? You were DEAD. As if, the great and noble savior of earth is beyond having a family. Piccolo was more of a father then you ever were!" Gohan growled.

"Gohan, you don't mean that," Goku whispered, shaking his head.

"He's turned you against your own family! Gohan, please, you're my baby boy! Don't do this! You're killing me!" Chichi wailed. "What have I done wrong?"

"Chichi…" Goku sighed, shaking his head helplessly.

She pushed away from his embrace, and spun on Gohan once more. Tears streaming down her face she advanced on Gohan once more. However, instead of backing away, Gohan stood his ground. When she was only a pace away she turned a hard stare to him, hands on her hips. "All right Gohan, this has gone far enough. I want you to forget this silly notion of being in love with… with whoever it is. In addition, I want you to go apologize and do whatever it takes to get Videl back before I drag you over there myself! And you will START by apologizing to me and your father for all those horrible things you've said… or else!"

"Or else what, Mother? You'll spank me? Lock me in my room? Give me dinner without desert?" Gohan asked, sadness filling his face.

"You will do as I say Gohan as long as you live under this roof. You will follow my rules!" Chichi waggled her finger at him.

"Then maybe I shouldn't' be living here," Gohan answered sadly.

"That's it. If you can't do what your parents tell you, then get out now!" Chichi shrilled.

"Chichi… you don't mean that," Goku said. With her back to him, Chichi didn't even acknowledge Goku was still in the room.

"I mean it! I don't want to see your face until you apologize for this! You ungrateful brat!" she continued.

"Then I'd better start packing," Gohan sighed. "Because my mind isn't going to change."

"FINE! But when you walk out that door, don't come crying back till you learn how to respect your family!" was her answer. Leaving his ranting mother behind Gohan marched up the stairs, head held high. Goku admired his son, feeling a sick emptiness in the pit of his stomach unrelated to food. Just what had he missed, and should he have done something?

After spreading a selection of his best clothes on his bed, Gohan dragged his suitcase from the top shelf of his closet. Goten poked his head around the doorframe tentatively, watching his brother marching back and forth to place more items into the leather battered case. Even the zip up shaving kit he had received as a twelfth birthday present from Grandpa Gyu Mao sat near the folded piles of underwear, socks, and neatly pressed shirts.

"Big Brother, where are you going?" Goten asked, stepping into the room.

"I'm moving out, Goten. I'm afraid I can't live here anymore," Gohan answered truthfully. There seemed no point in sugar coating things for his brother. Eventually he'd hear the story from his parents, and he would rather tell his younger brother himself.

"Why not?" Goten asked, climbing up to sit on his bed.

"Well Goten, Mom and I had an argument. I decided its better if I live somewhere else for a while, till things cool off," his older brother explained, still shifting shirts and other garments together.

"Why? Gohan, please don't' leave me behind!" Goten protested. "Why do you have to go? Mommy didn't mean it when she screamed. She always goes and does the opposite anyway!"

"Goten, please, Mom is very stubborn about some things. It's just that she doesn't realize I'm 18 years old and have my own dreams. She can't keep me under her thumb Goten. I have to have a clear place to think about what I want out of life…" Gohan sighed, sitting down next to his brother.

"But Gohan… I'll miss you! Why can't you stay! And where's big Sissy Videl?"

"Videl's not going to be your big sister, Goten. I'm sorry to let you down, but that was Mom's dream, not mine," Gohan attempted to clarify, seeing Goten's pout.

"Well you said you were in love! But who with?"

"Goten, he's someone you'll be meeting soon. He's very nice, and he's who I want to spend the rest of my life with," said Gohan.

"You're going to marry a guy? That's a little strange," Goten blinked. "But I guess that means I'll have a new big brother?"

"Pretty much, Goten. Don't' worry, I'll write and I'll visit. Whenever you come to visit Trunks you can see me at Capsule," Gohan reassured him, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"I don't want you to go," Goten pouted.

"I wish you could come along. But he's got a small apartment."

"Wow, I didn't think two men could get married, but whatever," Goten shrugged. "I guess that means if I don't like girls I could have a boyfriend?"

Suddenly Gohan blinked at his younger brother. He gave a smiled and ruffled his hair. "No, it just means that you should like girls or boys. It doesn't' matter if you don't' like girls. You should like whom you like and marry whom you want to marry. Whoever you love."

"Okay, whatever you say. But Mommy's not going to kick me out if I don't' marry a girl will she?"

"I don't know Goten. However, one thing is for sure. I'm still your big brother, and I care about you. So don't worry." Leaning over he wrapped Goten in a close hug, feeling his brother's arms squeeze his ribs tightly. Goten sniffled a bit, but struggled not to cry when Gohan released him and folded the case shut so it clicked. Pulling on his Capsule jacket from Trunks, Gohan then picked up his bag of books in one hand, before picking up the case in the other. He squared his shoulders and strode out of his room, Goten trotting behind him.

"G'bye big brother!" Goten waved, as Gohan approached the front door. He turned the knob and swung it open.

"Thanks Goten," said Gohan cheerfully. He sensed his mother's ki in the kitchen and Goku's ki approaching. Wondering if he should bother to wait, he glanced around for a last look at his once and former home.

"Gohan wait. Don't leave like this!" Goku suddenly interrupted, standing to his right. Hearing those words tore an unpleasant memory from Gohan's past. How many times had Goku just waved goodbye on the way out on some new adventure? Especially when his power pole was slung across his back and Chichi barely had time to protest further.

"Dad, don't try to stop me," Gohan sighed, emotionally drained. Having to face his father again was more than he could stand because he could feel another harangue just on the tip of his tongue.

"I know you've got your mind made up, but you could at least say goodbye to your dad?" asked Goku, his eyes clouded with regret.

"You're right. Goodbye Father. I'm going now," Gohan answered. Now it was his turn, and he decided reciprocity was only fair. If his father expected a huge emotional scene, Gohan wasn't going to oblige.

"But Gohan, you're really leaving?" asked Goku incredulous. "When your mother finds out… I don't know what she'll say."

"I guess I am. Just say goodbye to mom for me. She knows the drill," Gohan nodded, matter of fact. All the time he stared past Goku as if he didn't exist.

Goku moved between his son and the now opened door, "Wow, you're really serious… are you going to Trunks?"

"Where else?" Gohan shrugged, not facing his father. "I'm sure he'll take me in."

"He's going to go marry some guy he loves, Daddy," Goten chattered, nipping about their ankles like a lively puppy.

"Geez, so you really ARE in love with Trunks," Goku scratched his head. "I guess I was so busy training I missed that. I mean I heard he was back but…"

"Dad, I have to go now," Gohan said sternly. "You'll probably see me at capsule if you come by to use the gravity room."

"But Gohan, aren't you going to give your old man a hug?" Goku asked. Goten stood there thoughtfully his finger tapping his lips.

Gohan didn't answer. He simple strode past his father and out the door without looking back. Goku reached out a hand to stop him but then retracted it. He could sense the quiet calmness that spoke more loudly then words could. Something told him his son didn't want much more to do with him at this moment. Sighing, Goku closed the door behind his elder son as he marched into the night. Ki wreathed him, and soon he blasted off to a small star on the horizon.

"Goodbye Gohan," Goku waved sadly. "I never thought I'd be the one left behind… while you left…"

Emptiness filled him. Suddenly Goku realized for himself what it was like to be brushed aside. He had always assumed Gohan or Chichi would be there, waiting for his return patiently. That was just how the world worked. Yet to see his son so cold and aloof, it reminded him of Vegeta. How had he gone wrong? Did Gohan feel some need to push him out because he had failed as a father?

"I know I wasn't the best father, Gohan… but I wish…" Goku trailed off. Goten wiped tears from his eyes. Leaning down Goku squatted by his younger son who was staring expectantly out the door.

"I want Gohan back!" Goten sniffled.

"I'm sorry, but he's… gone…" Goku answered.

"Yeah," Goten answered, chin wobbling.

"Goten… I…" Goku stammered.

Not knowing what else to do, Goku wrapped his arms around his younger child. Goten didn't resist, and buried his face in his father's blue shirted chest. Clinging tightly to folds of cloth he started to sob. Tears soaked into Goku's shirt and he slowly stood up, carrying Goten on his hip. He couldn't stop a tear of his own as he carried the younger demi to bed. Gohan was gone, and there was nothing to be done. Somehow going after him would be wrong. It was his choice, and he had made it clearly.

* * *

Through the darkness of night Gohan flew, droplets of water still pelting his energy trail. He did not bother to hide his ki signature, soaring along from West Province 439 towards Satan City. Far better, it was to alert Trunks to his arrival, Gohan figured. Tightly his hand clutched the grip of the suitcase and backpack he carried with a few meager possessions. He had the feeling he would not need much at this point.

Like a lighthouse beacon, he homed in on the azure ki. This would be his guiding force rather than the wishes of others. HE would forge his own destiny with Trunks, side by side. No longer would his mother live vicariously through him or his father take him for granted. One regret was that he could not bring Goten. Yet he would keep a close eye on his little brother once he was established in his new abode.

Gohan felt numb inside, from the efforts of composing himself. He knew as soon as he touched down and arrived at his destination the mask would crumble and tears would burst forth. As it was, he could hardly keep the tears from blurring his vision. Downright rejection from his mother and confusion from his father hardly dissuaded this conclusion. Only Goten seemed to accept the situation in his usual childlike way. Was this because of the possibility that Goten only had interests however young in Kid Trunks? It was too early to tell.

Gracefully he arched down towards the parking lot. He toyed momentarily with the idea of rapping on Trunks window, but figured it was better not to draw any more attention to him. Leather shoes touched lightly down on the rain soaked asphalt. Overcast skies reflected the orange haze, hanging over the city like a pall. The absence of twinkling stars tugged his spirits down a few notches. From the front door, he could see movement, a dark figure running rapidly towards him.

"Gohan..." echoed thoughts in his mind.

"Trunks," Gohan answered, letting his suitcase and bag drop. Shakily he moved forwards, as if in a dream. Indeed, he now surrendered to long withheld emotions, paying the price for his calm and collected demeanor earlier. There was only so much he could hide, and in front of his love, he could let it all go. Not even looking up he fell into the outstretched arms held up to catch him. Burying his face in the hollow between neck and shoulder, he deeply inhaled the reassuring scent.

"Shh, easy there Gohan. Let's get you inside," Trunks answered, not even bothering to ask Gohan why he was here, or what happened for that matter. One glance down at the bags a few paces away told him all he needed to know. Lifting his head from Trunks shoulder, Gohan stared up into the warm concerned blue of his lover's eyes. Inside his stomach twisted and convulsed in knots along with his lungs heaving in and out for air. Swallowing his sobs Gohan could not keep his chin from wobbling so he clenched his jaw tightly.

"I came here because... I..." he began.

"Let's get your things and get you inside Gohan. Tell me all about it once we've gotten you a hot drink and out of those wet clothes," Trunks said with a teasing wink. Letting go of Gohan, he still kept one hand in contact with his body, sliding it along to wrap around his lover's shoulders. Almost sleepwalking in his misery Gohan let Trunks lead him over to retrieve the case and book bag.

"That was supposed to be a joke to cheer you up, Gohan," Trunks reprimanded him, seeing the tears trailing in columns down Gohan's smooth cheeks.

"S... sorry Trunks. I'm not in a great mood now," Gohan apologized, grasping his bag.

"No, I'll carry the case. I insist," trunks said, tugging him along towards the front door.

Gohan pressed tightly to Trunks side on the walk through the lobby, and the ride inside the posh elevator. His eyes wanted to glance down at his shoes more than his surroundings, for he warred for self control. Still he shivered, accepting the warmth radiating from Trunks body, and clinging to the sold strength of his frame.

When the doors dinged open Trunks grasped his hand and urged him out. Gohan felt the world graying out around him as he retreated somewhere inside himself. He had perfected a reaction over the years to emotionally distance himself from his immediate surroundings. At that moment, he realized how long he had been in this mode; since dinner around the Son Family table. Split into two halves, the rational Gohan sat back as a spectator while the emotional Gohan silently bit his lip and forced back his tears.

"Gohan, don't hold it all in like that. You'll make yourself sick," Trunks whispered, rubbing his back as they walked along the hall to his apartment. Stopping by the door, he then set down the case and fished in his pocket for his key lanyard. Gohan glanced down to notice flannel slippers and sweatpants, and then trailed up Trunks figure to behold the raincoat he had thrown on. It was evident that Trunks must have dressed in a hurry to rush out to meet him.

Deprived for a second from contact with Trunks body, Gohan struggled to keep his knees from buckling. It seemed all strength was drained from his body, his stomach rumbling. No doubt, he had failed to eat enough at the dinner table. Not that he could stomach his mother's cooking anyhow after the verbal harangue. Trunks gentle shakes snapped him back to reality again, and he somehow gathered things up and entered the apartment.

Peace fell like a blanket once he stood inside the quiet dimness. Vertical blinds were open to reveal the twinkling stars of city lights. Behind him the door clicked shut, banishing the outside world and with it Gohan's last reservations. Grasping Trunks outstretched hand Gohan allowed himself to let out an audible sob. It sounded so loud in the apartment's silence. Instantly fingers pried the case and strap from his hands, and pulled him forwards. Pressing his face into Trunks collarbone Gohan leaned fully against him.

"That's it Gohan, just cry. I am not going to ask you to hold it back. Just let it out," Trunks encouraged, squeezing him tightly. Gohan's hands slid up Trunks back diagonally, gripping great folds of Trunks top between them. Trunks did not care that Gohan was soaking wet or sopping into his dry clothes.

Somehow, Gohan had to force himself to make any noise because he had grown so accustomed to crying silently. He knew that audible sounds of sobbing and weeping added to emotional expression and it felt good to release the pent up tightening in his chest. He was accomplished at letting tears flow, but anything past sniffles seemed forbidden. For a few minutes, Trunks simply held him, letting Gohan give voice to his sorrow. Then he released him to cup his cheeks with both hanks and press his brow to Gohan's.

"Listen to me Gohan, you don't ever have to hold back or pretend you're something you're not as long as you're with me," Future Trunks said firmly, eyes steadily locking into his. "You always have a place with me."

"I know, but it hurts like hell," Gohan answered. "It took all I had to just leave there without screaming and yelling... or letting them see me cry."

"Gohan, I know it's not going to be easy, but you must have been very brave to come here this time of night. I am sure it was the hardest thing you've had to do. Am I right in assuming your parents didn't take the news of us being together really well?"

"N...no," Gohan half laughed. Trunks wiped away the tear with his thumb.

"Let's get you into something dry, and sit down. I put on water for tea, and you look like you could use something to calm you. It's freezing out there and ki or no ki, you're soaked and chilled to the bone," Trunks patted his back, aiming him towards the sofa.

A few minutes later Gohan leaned back on the sofa, wearing a pair of sweatpants, and one of Trunks warm flannel shirts. He reached up to accept the cup of hot broth that Trunks handed him, holding it for warmth between his fingers. Trunks sat next to him, putting down a tray of sandwiches and two cups of hot chocolate. Hip touching Gohan's Trunks wrapped his arm around the younger demi. Gently he pressed a kiss to Gohan's cheek, rubbing his shoulder.

"You don't have to talk right now. Just get some of this into you," Trunks said.

Gohan swallowed his bullion eagerly, then set the cup down and accepted the mug of hot chocolate. After a swing, he said, "Mom totally lost it. You should have seen her face. She looked as if she was going to have a stroke. And Dad... he just sat back and said nothing... nothing..."

"I'm not surprised. I am sorry to have put you through that Gohan. I didn't expect this to happen... this way..."

"She said as long as I lived under her roof I lived by her rules. I pretty much told her I figured I needed to live elsewhere. So here I am..."

"But I'm glad you came here. IT was the right choice," Trunks soothed, squeezing Gohan's free hand not holding the mug.

"I'm glad Trunks. However, what about tomorrow at school? I mean won't that create a problem for you if they find out that a teacher's taken up with a student?" asked Gohan.

"Let's worry about that when it happens. Besides, if it gets to be an issue, we'll move back to Capsule," Trunks nodded.

"But my scholarship..."

"Capsule can give you a scholarship Gohan. You don't need to worry about money, food or those things," Trunks said.

"But I can't ask you to..."

"We're in this together Gohan. Are we or are we not lovers?" Trunks reprimanded him. "I want to help you Gohan. Can't you accept what I am freely offering, and stop trying to always take things on that you shouldn't? Like your parent's happiness?"

"I know Trunks but I'm just not used to leaning on someone like this..."

"It's not that hard to accept my love Gohan. All you have to do is be yourself. Let me love you, and accept what I have to offer. Because if you don't receive it, how can you give love?" Trunks asked him. Gohan set down his mug and turned to Trunks. The deep soft kiss both astonished and silenced him in a satisfying way. Gohan sealed his future with that kiss. He was ready to accept what Trunks had wanted to give all those years so freely. In return, he had so much more to gain, and nothing to lose by opening himself to a relationship that forever bound him to his lover. In putting his own happiness foremost this time, he had gained far more than he could have imagined.


End file.
